Wanderings with Werewolves
by ishandtwofourths
Summary: POA-era. Allegations of fraud are made against former professor Gilderoy Lockhart, and Auror Trainee Tonks is assigned the case. It was supposed to be a simple job, but when she meets the new DADA professor, things get a bit more complicated... R/T.
1. Problems with Paperwork

**Disclaimer**: Sadly, the characters within do not belong to me, but rather to some little-known author by the name of J.K. Rowling. Perhaps you've heard of her?

**A/N**: Hello all! I come bearing my first full-fledged, multi-chapter fic – and it's about darn time, too. I actually came up with this idea quite some time ago, before the release of _Deathly Hallows;_ after that came out (and after I got over the depression it induced in me), I decided to go ahead with this anyway, since poor Remus and Tonks deserve more happy times, yes? Of course, it took me bloody forever to churn this baby out, but at long last, here it is.

**Setting:** Oh, a quick note on the timeline, if I may? This takes place in the summer just before Harry's third year, and although it doesn't really touch on any of the events from his point of view in the book, I've categorized this as _Prisoner of Azkaban_-era. Here, Tonks is a second-year Auror trainee, about to start her third year of training; Remus has just been hired to fill the Defence Against the Dark Arts post.

**Summary**: POA-era. Allegations of fraud are made against former professor Gilderoy Lockhart, and Auror Trainee Tonks is assigned the case. It was supposed to be a simple job, but when she meets the new DADA professor, things get a bit more complicated…R/T.

Ladies and gents, without any further ado, may I present to you, _Wanderings with Werewolves_!

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**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 1 – Problems with Paperwork**

"_Level Two, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including the Improper Use of Magic Office, Auror Headquarters, and Magical Law Enforcement Squad,"_ a cool voice announced as the wrought golden grilles of the lift slid open.

As always, Tonks stumbled out gracelessly amongst the shuffle of Ministry of Magic employees and made her way to Auror Headquarters. She wove her way through the maze of cubicles, greeting some of her colleagues with her customary "Wotcher!" as they passed by; of those that noticed, none had time for more than a harried nod of their heads in return. The entire Ministry had been in an uproar in the few weeks since Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban, but it was the Auror Department that was the most hectic. Every second of every day seemed to bring new tips that needed sorting and new searches that needed coordinating, and everything was funneled through the Aurors' little cube farm.

Ironically, despite literally being in the midst of all the action, Tonks felt completely in the dark.

She watched Williamson dart by with a new stack of Supposed Sirius Sightings (half of which she would bet were placed by paranoid little biddies that needed their eyesight checked), and then Savage rushed past in the opposite direction, grumbling over the map in his hands that he couldn't quite fold properly. Meanwhile Dawlish could be heard cursing from his desk, and she scurried by lest he direct his irritation at her.

She somewhat understood their frustrations, but there was another level to hers – because while she wished she could do her part and help, she couldn't. No, she had purposely been left out of the search (and out of _any_ aspect of the investigation) due to her connections, however tenuous, with the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.

"Just for propriety's sake," that Umbridge toad had simpered with a patently faux smile on her face. "You understand, don't you Miss Tonks? We wouldn't want even a _hint_ of suspicion to taint such a crucial case!"

Oh, she'd understood, all right… Umbridge had tried to pull that same trick when she'd applied to the Auror program in the first place. Apparently she had been a "questionable" candidate, what with the shapeshifting, and the dodgy family history, and whatever else dear Dolores had decided was unsuitable about her (the lilac-coloured hair probably hadn't done her any favours). Back then, Scrimgeour hadn't had any problems with those complaints, as pathetically unfounded as they were – but now, under all the pressure from Fudge, Umbridge, and the entire panicked public to produce their errant escapee, he hadn't even bothered putting up a fight.

"Git," she cursed him, and kicked the nearest wall in exasperation.

"What have I done now?" Kingsley Shacklebolt complained good-naturedly as he poked his head out of his cubicle.

She smiled back sheepishly. "Oh, wotcher, King. Sorry, I didn't mean to… Er…" She trailed off, looking down at her steel-toed boots and gesturing helplessly.

"Relax, Tonks. Having a bad morning, I take it?" he grinned sympathetically, before snatching at the sleeve of her robes and pulling her into his office. "Here, come in for a moment, I need a break from all these files or I'll go nuttier than Black himself."

She let herself get dragged along, and then found herself surrounded by the countless photos of Sirius Black that papered the walls. The first time she saw Kingsley's cubicle she had joked that he needed a better decorator, but she was used to it now. She settled down on a corner of his cluttered desk (only knocking down two sheets of parchment this time – a new record!) and faced the side covered with pictures of Sirius as a young man.

For some reason she was fascinated by the stark differences between the person in those photos from years ago, laughing freely, and the person in the wanted posters today, screaming madly. A dozen years in Azkaban would do that, of course, but he just seemed like he'd been a genuinely happy and normal bloke… Surely that man, with his ready smiles and friendly waves at the camera, could not turn out to be one of the most despicable of Death Eaters?

But that seemed like an odd, and perhaps traitorous, way to think about the Ministry's number one fugitive; so Tonks did her best to push it out of her mind and instead questioned, "How goes it, then? Any breaks?"

"Now, now, you know you're not allowed any details of the case, what with your '_questionable connections'_," he scolded her, but with a roll of his eyes accompanying the air quotes he made. Despite her annoyance, she laughed in relief. It helped to know that at least _some_ of the department thought Scrimgeour's decision was a load of dragon dung; unfortunately they couldn't really do anything about it, but at least Kingsley passed along a few tidbits of information to her now and then.

He glanced over the mess of files on his desk and sighed, his mood suddenly more subdued. "I've been reading over every file we have on Black, and on anybody even remotely connected to him, over and over again. Honestly, I think I might know him better than he knows himself."

"After twelve years of bunking with Dementors, that might be true," Tonks quipped. After the words were spoken, she realized it was a rather poor attempt at humour, but Kingsley continued musing as if he hadn't heard her.

"I don't know what it is, but I feel like something doesn't add up. Like I'm _missing_ something…"

Her first instinct was to retort, "You mean aside from Black himself?", but luckily Tonks' brain overruled her mouth that time. Instead she frowned and politely asked, "What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "I don't even know… Call it a gut feeling."

"Well, you know what Mad-Eye always says -"

"We _all_ know what Mad-Eye always says," Kingsley interrupted her with a deep laugh, his demeanour brightening once more. "Nobody in Headquarters goes one day without hearing '_Constant vigilance_!' screamed at them at least five times."

"True, but I was actually thinking more along the lines of '_Always trust your instincts – they're the best tool an Auror can have'_," she quoted her mentor, complete with an imitation of his scratchy voice. She decided to edit out the rest of that speech (which included a tale of an ogre, an owl, and a malfunctioning streetlamp) or else they would have been there all morning. "Speaking of, have you seen the old codger today?"

He didn't bat an eye at Tonks' affectionate name-calling (and she _was_ the only one who got away with it, even in front of Moody's face). "He's around somewhere… Best be off before you get another lecture on how tardiness is a Dark Wizard's best friend."

"I was _barely_ five minutes late that time," she groused, but she bade Kingsley goodbye and wandered down the corridor to Mad-Eye's cubicle.

He wasn't there when she arrived, so she undid his protective wards (all seven layers of them! But he insisted it was good practise for her) and sat down. Compared to the other offices, decorated with pictures of friends, family members, and various knickknacks, Moody's was downright sparse. One wall was plastered with pictures of Dark Wizards, both captured and still at large, and to balance those out one day Tonks had brought in some lovely landscapes and a potted geranium. Mad-Eye unfortunately mistook the plant for the fanged variety and had blasted it to bits; but at least the landscapes were still hanging (amidst his various Foe Glasses), so she amused herself by staring at them for a while.

After checking her reflection in the nearest Foe Glass and deciding that bright blue hair would better match her robes, she started twirling around and around in the spinning chair. She wondered what menial task she would be given today; with Moody now assigned to the Black investigation full-time, her training had been rather fragmented lately. There was hardly time for any of her usual classes – and considering how badly she was doing in Stealth and Tracking, she didn't feel she could afford to miss many more of those sessions. She still got the occasional lectures and procedural overviews, but she really didn't feel like she was contributing anything to the search, like practically every other Ministry employee was (for Merlin's sake, even the Magical Maintenance blokes had charmed the doors at every entrance to recognize Black! Not that he'd be barmy enough to barge right into the Ministry, but still…).

No, instead, lowly second-year Auror Trainee Nymphadora Tonks had been relegated to paperwork.

She kept spinning, utterly bored already – and the day had just started. She wished they would hurry up and catch Sirius so she wouldn't have to mope around and be useless any longer… But at the same time, another part of her (a _very_ small, and _very_ rebellious part) actually wanted to wish him well – maybe if he gallivanted around for long enough, they would finally realize they could use more manpower to capture him? And she was determined to be there when that time came, ready and waiting to jump in and show them all just what she could do.

Her musings about Black came to an end when her spinning suddenly stopped; Tonks' momentum, however, did not, and she flew out of the seat and landed on the floor in front of a familiar wooden leg. Glancing up, she saw Moody with a scowl on his grizzled face and his wand pointed at his chair. "Constant vigilance, girl!" he cried, before clomping over to sit down himself. "Now, on your feet – I've got good news for you."

She leapt up and eagerly asked, "Did you talk to Scrimgeour? Has he changed his mind?"

"Oh, I talked to him all right… Don't know what he's playing at, bowing down to Umbridge like that. Politics, it's all politics!" he grimaced, taking a sip from his flask as if it would wash away the taste of governmental back scratching from his mouth.

"So, no luck persuading him, then?" Tonks sighed, slouching in defeat. It looked to be another day of filing reports for her…

"Sorry, lass," Moody said. "You're not to be involved in the Black case, and that's his final word."

"I thought you said you had _good_ news!"

"Oh, that I do," he continued, and then reached a hand inside his cloak to pull out a file folder. "I told Rufus it was a damn waste of your talents to have you pushing papers all day – so I managed to convince him to assign you your own case."

His announcement was met with silence.

All Tonks could do was blink. She was too stunned to even reach out and take the file from Mad-Eye, because there was no way she could have heard him correctly. Her very own case? That was… amazing, actually. It sounded too good to be true – Auror Trainees were _never_ assigned their own cases! And that automatically triggered her suspicions. "Has this only been shunted my way because it's such a crap case that nobody else can be bothered with it?"

"Now, don't give me that!" he scolded, wagging a gnarled finger at her. "I'd have thought you'd jump at the offer. It's not often Trainees get their own investigations, and this will be a fine chance for you to put your skills to the test."

He went on, talking about how she would be doing this on her own, how she had better remember everything he'd taught her, how she would have to remain constantly vigilant… But Tonks' attention was not with him. Instead, her excitement was rapidly growing. He was right – this was an amazing opportunity, the perfect chance to finally show off her true abilities and prove to the rest of the Department that she wasn't just Mad-Eye Moody's clumsy little tag-along! Now, she couldn't wait.

"So, what's the case?" she asked eagerly, interrupting him in the middle of his rant about the importance of safe wand storage. Her imagination was already running wild: she could just picture herself chasing a murderer over hill and dale, shooting out Stunners as she yelled for him to halt… Or trailing a suspect through the busy London streets, waiting for him to lead her straight to a ring of international smugglers… Or fighting a duel with a perp resisting arrest, dodging curse after curse, and flinging out her own as she –

"You'll be investigating Gilderoy Lockhart," he told her, putting an abrupt end to her flights of fancy.

And thus her bubble was burst.

"Gilderoy Lockhart?" she repeated sceptically. "What, has he been kidnapped by a mob of desperate housewitches?" She should have known better than to get her hopes up; what were the odds she would have actually landed an _important_ case?

As usually occurred when Tonks cracked a joke, Moody merely snorted at her impertinence. "Don't you read the papers, girl?"

"'Course I do!" she said indignantly. "I just figured the book review page wasn't very Auror-worthy." Lockhart hadn't come out with some new clap-trap called _Mixing with Metamorphmagi_, had he? Merlin help her if he had…

"Maybe if you paid more attention, you'd know that Lockhart's holed up in St. Mungo's, recovering from a Memory Charm gone wrong."

She frowned, more confused than ever. "Isn't that type of thing better left to the Obliviators?" she wondered. Those fellows were more territorial than a nesting dragon when it came to their cases, and the last thing Tonks wanted to do was start some inter-departmental feud when everybody in the Ministry was already walking on eggshells.

"It would be an Obliviator's jurisdiction if we were talking about _restoring _his memory – but that's not the issue." Moody tossed the file at her and grunted, "Read it. You'll see."

She opened the folder, eagerly skimming through the pages. She expected to see the usual forms – witness statements, formal charges, and the countless other pieces of parchment that the Ministry bureaucracy was so fond of – but instead there was only a letter, written in an elegant hand. She began to read it, and as she moved further down the page her eyes grew wider and wider. This was more serious than she could have imagined – it was a personal request from Albus Dumbledore, of all people, to launch an investigation against Lockhart!

The accusations stated that Lockhart had intended to _Obliviate_ two students, and that he'd previously done the same to other wizards, taking credit for their heroic deeds for his own profit. Her training started to kick in, and her first thought was that those were extremely wild allegations. But on the other hand, it was her former Headmaster making them! He always did seem to know _everything_ – she'd had a sneaking suspicion that he used to be able to see right through her morphs…

She wanted to believe him, but as an objective investigator, could she? It was then that Tonks noticed two more pages of parchment attached to his letter. The first was a signed statement, explaining what Dumbledore had outlined in greater detail, by one of the students who had seen it all firsthand – one Ronald Weasley. Charlie's little brother? Perhaps their friendship had biased her, but she was certain a Weasley wouldn't make up a story like this. And there was one more statement following that one, and all the important aspects matched up once again…

…And it was signed by _Harry Potter_!

Tonks' jaw dropped.

"Not such a dull assignment after all, eh?" Moody chuckled gruffly.

No, it didn't seem dull at all. "Mad-Eye, this is a serious case! Unauthorized uses of Memory Charms, fraud and misrepresentation, and who knows what other laws Lockhart might've broken -"

"Well, it'll be your job to find out," he cut her off.

"Are you seriously assigning this to me?" she asked in disbelief. If he had more of a sense of humour, she might have assumed this was some sort of joke – but she liked to think that she knew Mad-Eye better than that.

"When am I not serious?" he demanded, clomping his wooden leg on the floor in impatience. "Stop standing there and gaping at me like a patch of Bundimun, girl! I want you to get to the bottom of this – something about this case smells worse than an unwashed troll, and I'm not talking about that permed ponce's cologne."

At least she knew Mad-Eye hadn't _fully_ gone around the bend by offering her this investigation, since he still displayed his usual paranoia… "I'll get right on it," she declared, trying to infuse more confidence into her tone than she actually felt.

"Then off with you, lass! You'll be unsupervised on this one, so for Merlin's sake, _try _and remember everything I taught you."

"Right," she nodded firmly, but of course, that motion seemed to cause everything Moody had tried to drill into her brain to go flying out instead.

She took a deep breath and tried not to panic. This was her chance! A _real_ case, and with a celebrity name attached to it, too – that might garner some attention when she cracked it. She _would_ crack it, she told herself. And hopefully she wouldn't make a complete arse of herself in the process, like usual.

"Right," she repeated again, clutching the file tightly to her chest. "Thanks, Mad-Eye."

She turned on her heel and left his cubicle – but her elbow caught the edge of the doorway and Tonks ended up flying face-first onto the hallway floor instead, just as Savage was walking by. He wasn't able to dodge her in time and went bowling over her, sending a dozen Sirius Sightings scattering around them.

They both swore simultaneously as Moody roared his final words of advice (or was it a scolding? It was hard to tell with him sometimes). "_Constant vigilance_!"

Tonks sighed. Right. So far, a great start.

- **To Be Continued…** -

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**Next chapter** – Tonks goes to interview the man himself! Yes, a trip to St. Mungo's is just what the healer prescribed.

And thus ends the setup! Tonks gets her very own case – but I think we all want her to be investigating _another_ DADA professor, don't we? Well, he'll certainly show up soon enough. In the meantime, how about being kind enough to leave me a quick review to let me know how you're liking this so far? I don't mean to be conniving, of course, but reviews _do_ help motivate me – and the more motivation I have, the quicker a new chapter may appear… ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


	2. Issues with Interviews

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 2 – Issues with Interviews**

Tonks' first destination was St. Mungo's. Mad-Eye always said that talking to suspects was the most important part of any investigation, because more often than not, the guilty ones would incriminate themselves with darting eyes, minute twitches, or nervous babble. She had always privately thought it was Moody's grizzled appearance that made suspects nervous, but then again, whatever worked.

As she rode the lift up to the fourth floor of the hospital, she wondered if Lockhart would give himself away. As nice as it would be to have an instant confession and a solved case under her belt, she thought she might prefer more of an actual investigation. Or at least, an interrogation… She had sat in with Mad-Eye a few times as he had grilled suspects, and she was always impressed by his ability to make hardened wizards burst into tears. She wouldn't mind a chance to try that out!

The doors of the lift opened and cut off her idea of talking Mad-Eye into using the Good Wizard/Bad Wizard technique (or Good Witch/Bad Wizard, if she wanted to be more specific). Tonks walked down the hall and was met at the doors of the ward by a kindly looking middle-aged Healer.

"Hello, you must be Auror Tonks," she greeted her, extending a hand. "I'm Miriam Strout, Head Healer of the Janus Thickey ward."

"Nice to meet you," she replied with a smile. _Auror_ Tonks? She could definitely get used to hearing that! A small voice at the back of her mind piped up and snidely reminded her that she was merely a trainee and should be referred to as such, but she quickly quelled it. After all, she was conducting an important investigation here – and introducing herself as _Trainee_ Tonks wouldn't elicit the same respect, or cooperation (or intimidation!), would it? It was all for the sake of professionalism, she told herself.

"I received your owl earlier," Healer Strout continued. "So you want to talk to dear Gilderoy, do you?"

"I do. I'm working on a case, and I hope he'll be able to give me some important information."

"Well, I'm sure he'll be more than eager to help – but we'll have to find him first," she mentioned apologetically, opening the door and leading Tonks inside.

"Find him?" Tonks repeated in alarm. "What do you mean?" Was there _another_ fugitive on the loose now? At least Lockhart would be more photogenic than Black – witches would probably tear down his wanted posters to hang on their walls.

"Oh, don't worry," the Healer laughed, peeking in doorways as they passed by. "He just likes to wander off, that's all. He's around here somewhere!"

They ended up finding him rather quickly, in the staff lavatory. "Gilderoy, why on earth are you in here? You have your own loo, you know!" Strout asked with a titter, walking over to him.

"The light in here is better!" he explained with a gleaming smile (five-time winner of _Witch Weekly_'s Most-Charming-Smile Award, Tonks recalled from the background information she had dug up on him – and then wondered how much per week he spent on Whitening Potions). "Makes me look stunningly handsome, don't you think?" He threw a wink at himself in the mirror, his eyes the exact shade of a forget-me-not.

"Of course, dear," Healer Strout agreed in a placating manner, and then gently tugged on his arm to direct his attention toward Tonks. "Now, why don't we go back outside so you can talk to this nice young lady? She'd like to ask you a few questions."

Lockhart finally tore his eyes away from his reflection and looked excitedly over to Tonks. "Questions? Do you mean like an interview? I love interviews! Are you a reporter? Have you come to do a story on me?"

She blinked, a bit taken aback by his enthusiasm – but at least it seemed like he was willing to cooperate. "I'm an Auror, not a reporter. Although yes, I suppose you could say I need an interview," she agreed.

"Fabulous!" he cried, and led the way out of the loo. However, once in the hallway, he paused and looked to Healer Strout in confusion. "Now, I know my bed is around here somewhere…"

Tonks frowned at that. Her sense of direction wasn't the best either, but surely she would at least remember where her bed was! Yet the Healer didn't seem to find this odd at all. "To your left and down the hall, Gilderoy," she reminded him gently.

"Ah, that's right! I knew that, of course – don't know why I bothered asking," he chortled to himself, and the two women followed him down the corridor.

When they reached his bed, Healer Strout tugged the privacy curtains closed around them and then departed with a smile. Tonks pulled up a chair and took a seat, before conjuring a quill and a sheet of parchment. Clearing her throat, she tried to adopt a professional manner. "Mr. Lockhart," she began.

"That's me!" he exclaimed.

"Er, yes," she acknowledged, after a surprised pause. "My name is Auror Tonks, and I need to ask you a few questions. Do you have any idea why I'm here?"

"You just told me, didn't you? To ask me questions," Lockhart stated, staring at her as if she were a simpleton.

"Well, yes – but I meant, do you know what I want to ask you questions _about_?" she clarified.

"Not a clue!" he replied cheerfully.

"Ah. Well, I'm here investigating an accusation made against you, actually."

"An accusation? Oh dear…" A look of worry flitted across his face, but it quickly disappeared as he casually suggested, "It's not Gladys Gudgeon, is it? She gets rather put out that I don't answer her fan mail, but I simply can't – I need to practise my writing more. But she keeps sending new letters every week, so she really can't be _too_ upset, can she?"

"No, it's not about fan mail." Although with the work the Ministry had been giving her lately, Tonks wouldn't have been surprised had that been the case. "It's about the improper use of Memory Charms."

"Memory Charms?" He sat up straighter, with a flash of recognition. "I was hit with a Memory Charm! I _think_… That's what they tell me, anyway. I can't remember, you see."

That much was obvious, Tonks thought with impatience. "You can't remember anything at all? You don't remember the two students you tried to curse?" she probed.

"Students? Does that mean I was a teacher? That's a surprise… Seems a waste of my good looks," Lockhart mused.

"Before you were a teacher, you were a writer. Do you remember any of that? Can you tell me anything about your books?" she queried further. Merlin, could he tell her _anything_?

"Books? Now that sounds a bit more interesting! Have you read them? Are they any good? Wait, that's a silly question," he chuckled to himself. "Of _course_ they must be good."

"So you can't tell me anything about them? You don't recall researching them, or interviewing people?"

"Interviewing people? This is rather like an interview, isn't it? But I don't think you're very good at it – shouldn't _I_ be telling _you_ things, instead of the other way around?"

"If only," she sighed quietly.

Tonks tried to dig a bit deeper, throwing out names and dates and words in hopes that they would jog his memory, but it did no good. So much for extracting a confession... She honestly hadn't expected his condition to be this bad. She had thought the Memory Charm might have affected the days around the incident – or at _most_, a few weeks! But instead, Lockhart could barely recall a thing. If she asked him to repeat her name, she doubted he would be able to.

Eventually deciding that there was really nothing useful she could get out of him, Tonks rose and vanished her quill and parchment (the only things she ended up putting to paper were a few doodles). She bade him a disappointed, albeit perfectly cordial, goodbye, and he waved merrily.

"It's been a pleasure!" he grinned. "Will this interview be published? Maybe you could write a book about me! If I wrote books, then there could be a book about me writing those books, you know."

She forced a little laugh and said she would think about it, and then stepped out of the little curtained area. Depending on what she found out about Lockhart and his activities, perhaps a tell-all book about him wouldn't be such a bad idea – but as of right now, she barely had enough information to fill up a single page.

Tonks moved to the other end of the ward, where Healer Strout had just finished chatting with a fur-faced woman. "Auror Tonks! Done so soon? I do hope Gilderoy was helpful."

"Er… Well, he was helpful in the sense that he seemed eager to help – but not in the sense that he told me anything I needed to know," she answered honestly.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Unfortunately, in his condition, he won't be able to tell you much," the Healer said regretfully.

"What exactly _is_ his condition? Will he ever regain his memory?"

"We can't give any guarantees – the mind and its memories are tricky business, you know! But our staff has been collaborating with the Mnemosyne Clinic for Memory Modification. We've been giving him remedial potions and charms, and we have seen _some_ improvement from when he was first admitted, but…" Strout shook her head sadly. "Both their experts and ours say that in their professional opinions, poor Gilderoy will never fully recover."

Tonks sighed. It was unexpected, but her first thoughts were of pity for Lockhart. What must it be like to never really know who you were, or what you had done? At least he seemed happy, in an oblivious sort of way…

Disheartened, Tonks thanked Healer Strout for her help and started to head out. Some frustration began to build slowly inside of her – it seemed she had accomplished absolutely nothing by coming there.

That thought planted a niggling seed of doubt within her; would she be able to accomplish anything at all? With the suspect incapacitated, the case would be that much harder to investigate. But beyond that, with the suspect incapacitated, was there really any _point_ to continue investigating? Succeed or fail, the outcome would be the same – even if Lockhart really was guilty, as long as his memory issues remained, he would be holed up in St. Mungo's. Is that why she had been handed this case – because there would be no consequences to her failure? Maybe it wasn't because she showed promise with her training, or because she was being given a chance to prove herself – what if this assignment was deemed the safest, being that she couldn't possibly bungle it up?

Oh, enough with the self-pity, she then thought, willing herself to snap out of her little funk. Regardless of the motives in assigning it to her, the case wasn't going to solve itself; she had to do what she could, even though it possibly wouldn't make a whit of difference in the end. Although, truth be told, that thought did depress her.

Tonks continued on her path out of the ward; but as she glanced around one last time, she noticed something and froze. Unfortunately, her feet received the message to stop a bit too late, so she stumbled a bit. After she straightened up, she found herself staring at some very familiar faces at the end of the room.

A couple sat on a bed, dressed in hospital robes. They looked pale and drawn. The man gazed blankly out the window, while the woman idly played with a piece of paper in her hands (was that a bubblegum wrapper?). She knew them, Tonks realized in shock. She passed their pictures every day on her way into Auror Headquarters, where they waved cheerfully from their place on the_ In Memoriam _wall of honour.

Unlike the rest of the witches and wizards depicted on that wall, however, Frank and Alice Longbottom were not dead. They were still alive, and right there in front of her in the Janus Thickey ward.

Suddenly Tonks felt a wave of guilt crash into her. The Longbottoms didn't remember who they were, but that didn't mean they didn't deserve justice – why should that be any different in the Lockhart case? Even if it wouldn't have any consequences with regard to _him_, it could matter to _somebody_… If Lockhart had indeed done what he was accused of, then he had left victims somewhere out there, with parts of their lives taken away from them. They, and everybody else, deserved to know the truth.

Newly motivated, Tonks nodded firmly to herself before heading out the door. She had a lot of work ahead of her, but she was now determined that nothing was going to stop her.

-x-x-x-

Later that day she found herself back in school. Back in the Headmaster's office, to be precise. It was a place she had been many times during the course of her seven years at Hogwarts, what with her inability to behave herself; and while each of those times had been filled with the sort of nervousness all too common when students landed themselves in trouble, Tonks had never before been so thrown. Perhaps it was the strangeness of walking through the castle on a summer's day and witnessing the school's eerie emptiness? Or could it be the fact that she now had a task to _find_ a troublemaker, instead of being one herself?

No, it was most likely the fact that she, Auror Trainee Nymphadora Tonks, was sitting across from Albus Dumbledore of all people, about to question him. It was enough to boggle her mind, and for a moment Tonks actually forgot what she was there to ask him. Luckily, Dumbledore began.

"Ah, Miss Tonks," he smiled warmly. "How very pleasant to see you again, my dear! Would you like a sherbet lemon?" He gestured to the bowl of candy on his desk, and Tonks took one with thanks. "I must confess, I was indeed hoping that my request for an investigation would land on your desk."

Hearing that, she nearly choked on the candy in her mouth. She coughed for a moment before confusedly questioning, "Sir?"

"I have been corresponding with Alastor Moody – we're old friends, you see," he explained, clasping his hands together. "When he told me of how his trainee was being forced to file papers all day, I realized that there was a way we could both benefit from the situation! I hope I was not amiss in assuming you would want a case?"

"Of course not, sir!" Tonks instantly reassured him. "I was surprised, that's all. Pleasantly, though! I didn't expect to be assigned my own case – especially one coming from _you_."

"My dear, the girl I remember from a mere few years ago was unfailingly inquisitive – I have no doubts that you will direct that energy towards solving this case," Dumbledore told her kindly, and it made her blush.

"Th-thank you, sir," she stuttered slightly. "I'll do my best."

"Wonderful," he grinned. Then, with a playful gleam in his eyes, he leaned forward over his desk and enquired in a good-natured manner, "Now, I believe you are here to interrogate me?"

That reminder jolted Tonks back into more of a professional mode, and she started to question Dumbledore about the statement he had written. Unfortunately, he told her that he had no first-hand knowledge about what Lockhart may or may not have done; rather, he had heard the tale after the fact from Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

"I'll need to ask them about what they saw. Would you mind if I contacted them?" she asked, trying to mask her eagerness. Getting to meet _Harry Potter_ while working this case would certainly be a perk!

"Alas, I'm afraid I must object," he shook his head, and the tiny bell at on the tip of his hat jingled as he moved. "They have just been through a rather trying experience in the Chamber of Secrets – I feel it would be better if they were not dragged into an investigation and forced to relive those events. Not to mention that with the tenor of the Ministry of Magic at this time… No, I'd prefer that the Ministry did not involve them."

Tonks frowned slightly. "I beg your pardon, sir, but whatever information they could provide might be essential to the case!"

"I have no doubt that your investigative brilliance will unearth evidence that will be much more compelling than the testimony of two young boys," he pointed out with perfect sincerity. "I really would rather that they were kept out of this, Miss Tonks – they have quite enough on their minds as it is."

She didn't have the same faith in herself that the Headmaster seemed to have, and she worried that her case had just been made all the more difficult… And yet she couldn't bring herself to argue with Dumbledore. He _was_ right, now that she thought about it – some concrete evidence would have to be found regardless, because the Wizengamot would merely scoff at the stories of two students.

"All right," she agreed. "I don't suppose you could possibly point me in the direction of where some of that evidence might be?"

"Of course," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling merrily. "In fact, I have a feeling you may even find more than you expect…"

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**Next chapter** – the introduction of the man I'm sure you've all been waiting for! Tonks meets the new DADA professor.

Huge thanks to all those of you who reviewed the first chapter! I hope you enjoyed the second one just as much. Those who leave me a few comments for this installment can get their very own interview with Gilderoy Lockhart! …Oh, what's that? You'd rather have some one-on-one time with _another_ professor? That could be arranged, I suppose – after all, the more reviews I get, the more motivated I'll be to get the next chapter out! ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


	3. Muckups with Meetings

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 3 – Muck-ups with Meetings**

Dumbledore had suggested she start her search for evidence in the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, and as Tonks made her way down to the second floor of the castle, she was pleased to learn that her feet still remembered the correct path. When she reached the door she found it was ajar, and so she stepped inside.

She was surprised to find the room a mess. Candlesticks were knocked over, a few pictures (of Lockhart himself, naturally – Tonks wasn't shocked at all on _that_ front) were hanging crookedly on the wall and numerous other hooks were empty, and piles of boxes lay on top of and around the desk. She wandered over to them and began poking inside; one was entirely full of more pictures, with numerous versions of Lockhart gazing up at her and preening like peacocks. And speaking of, another box was stuffed full of large peacock quills, multi-coloured inks and crumpled parchment; yet another was jammed with, of all things, mirrors and makeup.

It was obvious from the clutter and the haphazard stuffing of items into boxes (which looked very much like her own sorry attempts at packing) that Lockhart had been in quite a hurry to leave. Why might that have been, Tonks wondered. This panicked packing obviously occurred _before_ his Memory Charm backfired; but why would he have been running away? Surely the Gilderoy Lockhart that the public knew and loved would have run _towards_ danger and, more importantly, towards another opportunity to play the hero. At least, that had been the persona he tried to portray. If there was any truth to what Ron and Harry had said then Lockhart probably would have disappeared faster than a bloke with an Invisibility Cloak, and the disarray around her seemed to support that notion.

Frowning, she looked down and opened yet another box. It was filled with copies of his books, and Tonks couldn't help but feel a slight sense of relief – she figured she would have to skim through them at some point, and this way she wouldn't have to owl her Mum and ask to borrow hers. That probably would have led to the usual reminiscences of how "charming little Gilderoy" continuously used to ask her out back in school, and frankly, Tonks didn't want to hear _that _story again.

She started to busy herself by rifling through the man's things, looking for anything suspicious or incriminating – but to be honest, she wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for. She doubted she would find a written confession or a ledger detailing his nefarious plot, although that certainly would have made her job easier.

Tonks was so immersed in her search that she failed to notice she was no longer alone. She jumped when the sound of a throat clearing broke the silence of the office.

"I was anticipating I would be the brunt of some pranks from my new students, but I must admit, I wasn't expecting any this early," came a hoarse, albeit warm, voice from the doorway. "You must be quite the dedicated troublemaker to start in the summer – I feel I should be impressed. And perhaps slightly cautious as well..."

She glanced up to see a lanky man leaning casually against the doorframe. Moody's training automatically kicked in, and she examined him intently. He was wearing fairly nondescript clothing (grey trousers, a navy jumper, and a lighter blue Oxford underneath), his wand was not drawn (but of course, she noted it sticking out of his back pocket), and he had a pleasant smile on his face. He wasn't any sort of immediate threat, Tonks' mind decided, before moving on to try and suss out exactly who he was.

It was only then that his words began to register in her brain – _his_ new students, he had said. Did that make him the new DADA professor? It was the most likely option, Tonks concluded, despite his somewhat peaky appearance; but before she could ask him if that was the case, her brain began to process the rest of his statement.

He had thought she was one of his students! Suddenly her head was filled with the echoing of all those taunts about being the youngest in the Auror department, the rookie, and too green for anything other than paperwork – and she couldn't stop herself from feeling offended.

"Actually, I'm an Auror," she tersely informed him, deciding to leave out the '-in-training' part, which made the title sound considerably less impressive. "I'm not pranking anybody; I'm here conducting an investigation."

She registered how cold her voice sounded after she had spoken, and instantly regretted it – especially when the man straightened uncomfortably, losing his easy-going air. He entered the room, stepping closer, and now she could better see the small lines around his eyes and mouth that were all the more apparent when he frowned. She had offended him too, it seemed.

"Another Auror come to question me? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised," he said, a strain underlying his seemingly nonchalant words.

She was in the middle of planning another indignant retort when his response threw her off. "Wait – question _you_?" Tonks echoed in confusion. "Why would I be here to question you?"

The man blinked, seemingly as baffled as she was. "You mean you're _not_ here to investigate me?"

She shook her head in the negative. "No, should I be? I don't even know who you are!"

After a moment of silence, he abruptly began to laugh, and Tonks couldn't help but notice that the resulting grin took a few years off his face (which, she decided as she continued to eye him carefully, wasn't bad-looking at all). She also felt an inexplicable sense of relief that she hadn't offended him _too _badly, as he lightly chuckled, "It appears we have a case of mistaken identities! Why don't we end this right now with a proper introduction? My name is Remus Lupin, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

He stepped forward and extended his hand, and she shook it firmly. "Auror Tonks. Well, Auror Trainee, technically," she admitted sheepishly, feeling the need for some honesty to make up for her earlier blunder. "I'm here investigating Gilderoy Lockhart, not _you_."

"Ah, that's a relief! For a moment I thought the Auror Department might have changed tactics and attempted to lower my defences by sending in a pretty girl," Lupin said with a lopsided grin.

Tonks tried valiantly not to blush, but in the end she couldn't help herself. Did he just… Had he just _flirted_ with her? She wasn't sure what to do – Moody had certainly never covered this sort of situation in training! A part of her (that insatiable, annoyingly curious part) wanted to latch onto his words and ask _why_ the department would be sending somebody to interrogate him in the first place… But another part of her (a decidedly more troublesome part) wanted to flirt right back!

Luckily she didn't have to make a choice, because he calmly continued on. "Let me apologize for interrupting you, then. I simply saw you going through some of my boxes, and well, I assumed."

"_Your_ boxes? I thought these belonged to Lockhart!" Inwardly, Tonks cursed herself. This was getting more and more embarrassing for her. What a fabulous first impression she was making!

"Most of them are his, yes," Lupin smiled kindly, showing her there were no hard feelings. "But that one you have in front of you right now is one of mine. I've been moving in some of my own effects, but I hadn't finished removing all of my predecessor's things just yet."

She glanced down more carefully at the box she had begun to open. The items inside were all well-worn textbooks with long titles that didn't seem to fit in with the rest of Lockhart's personal library. "Oh, bugger," she cried, chagrined. "I'm so sorry! I should have guessed, I suppose – I mean, Lockhart probably wouldn't have any books that didn't have his picture in them!"

As soon as those words left her mouth, she winced. _What _was _wrong_ with her today? Why was she suddenly so flustered? What little mental censorship she had was suddenly defective; she was blurting out everything that came to mind and making an utter fool of herself. What must Remus Lupin think of her? In her blue hair and her battered Doc Martens, she was surprised he hadn't thought her some punk ransacking his office, looking for valuables to pawn off.

Yet to her utter shock, he didn't chastise her for badmouthing a colleague like her own teachers would have. Instead he chuckled pleasantly once more; not _at_ her, but _with_ her (if she had actually been laughing at the moment, that was). "I have a sneaking suspicion you might be right about that, Auror Tonks," he said. "Luckily I have yet to be pictured in any books, which leaves me with considerably more options in the reading department."

What was it about this man that utterly disarmed her? Once again Tonks didn't know how to respond. "I'm not actually an Auror yet, Professor Lupin," she pointed out, trying to bring things back around to business. "Just call me Tonks."

"Well then, as I haven't actually started teaching yet, perhaps you should just call me Remus," he replied in an easily teasing tone.

"All right… Remus," she smiled back, testing the name. She liked the way it rolled off her tongue – and then realized that was a rather odd thought to have.

"Don't I get _your_ first name?" he asked, and she couldn't keep kidding herself – he was _definitely _flirting with her!

Attempting to regain some control of the conversation, she reverted to a topic she was well versed in – the issue of her name. "_Nobody_ gets my first name. If you used it, I'd have to hex you," she informed him.

It didn't exactly have the threatening effect she had been hoping for. "That sounds like a challenge," he replied with a boyish grin, and something deep in the pit of her stomach flip-flopped.

She was in the midst of an investigation, Tonks reminded herself; she had a job to do! And unfortunately that job did not include chatting up a kind, rather good-looking professor, so she summoned up her best interrogation skills (like Moody had taught her, you should never let the conversation get away from you) and tried to get back on topic.

"Well, my challenge at the moment has to do with uncovering Lockhart's secrets," she told him firmly. "Do you know him at all?"

He eyed her curiously for a moment, but seemed to go along with the shift in subject. "No, I'm afraid we've never met – although I wish we had."

"Why's that?"

"Because then I might have been of more help to you," Remus smiled disarmingly once again, as he put his hands almost bashfully in his pockets. His flirtatious admission left Tonks nearly speechless, so much so that when he then asked, "Is there anything else I could do to help your investigation?" she took a few seconds to answer.

"Oh, er… I don't think so," she stuttered, looking at the mess of boxes and scattered items around them. "I should really get these things back to headquarters and start searching through them." A part of her wished she didn't have to leave, because this meeting had gotten her heart beating faster than anything else had in a long while; but another part of her felt the need to get away before this man threw her off balance any more than he already had. And being off balance was something she _definitely_ didn't need anybody else's help with…

"At least allow me to help you pack up?" His wand was already in his hand before she could reply, and some pieces of scattered parchment began levitating off the floor and into boxes.

"I can't say no to that," she admitted ruefully. "I'm dreadful at those sorts of householdy spells." So dreadful that she would no doubt humiliate herself even further in front of him, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

"How about I pack, and you shrink?" Remus offered, gesturing to the boxes that were already full.

She quickly agreed, beaming at him – and he beamed back, neither of them breaking eye contact until the picture Remus had been floating missed its target box completely, landing on the floor with a crash.

"Ah," he winced, and Tonks couldn't help but giggle gladly. Why should she be the only one to embarrass herself? Not to mention, this gave her an opportunity to show off a bit.

"Don't worry – this I'm an expert at!" she exclaimed in delight, before casting a quick _Reparo_ on the shattered glass and mollifying the scowling picture of Lockhart in the frame.

"Thank you," he said. "It would appear we make a good team, don't we?"

Tonks agreed, but almost wished it were not the case, because stripping the office of the rest of Lockhart's effects was done all too quickly. They chatted easily while they worked, with Tonks filling Remus in on some of the vague details of the case and just what she was investigating; but before she knew it, all of his boxes were shrunk and stowed away in the pockets of her robes. All that was left was to say her goodbyes and be on her way.

Yet she found that she wanted to do no such thing. It had actually been the most pleasant afternoon she had spent in a long while, and despite her better judgement, some of her abundant curiosity was now being rerouted away from the Lockhart case and towards one Professor Remus Lupin. She inexplicably wanted to know more about him – but what sort of excuse could she possibly have for seeing him again?

At least it was some consolation that the expression on Remus' face seemed to be one of disappointment as well. "It's been a pleasure, Auror Tonks," he told her with a genuine smile as he once again took her small hand in his warm, worn one. "If I can be of any help whatsoever in your investigation, please let me know. I'd be happy to answer any questions at all."

Any questions at all? Well, with an offer like that, she had a feeling that even the most pathetic of excuses to come back would do. "I just might have to take you up on that," she grinned.

-x-x-x-

Later that day Tonks was back in her tiny cubicle, which was now all the more cramped with Lockhart's boxes unshrunk and stacked as neatly as they could be in the small space. They towered tall, blocking her Weird Sisters posters from view and making her feel slightly claustrophobic; however, she tried her best to ignore that feeling and proceeded to go through them.

A few hours and half a dozen boxes later, to say she was frustrated would have been an understatement. There was absolutely _nothing_ of any value whatsoever! There were enough pictures of him to open a museum with (she briefly wondered if that had been his plan?) and enough fan mail to have killed an entire forest (although she had to admit, the ones from some particularly enthusiastic male fans were priceless), but there was nothing remotely suspicious. She had even resorted to skimming through Lockhart's autobiography, hoping for a bit more insight into the man himself, but she was now completely fed up by his flowery language and non-stop bragging. Was it too much to hope that when recounting his own life, he could have recounted his supposed crimes as well?

She threw that book down and decided to try her luck with another. Reaching into the box, she blindly grabbed one: _Wanderings with Werewolves_. She began flipping through it, and again, she was anything but impressed. When Moody popped into her cubicle an hour later, Tonks had lost count of the number of times she had rolled her eyes or suppressed her gag reflex.

"How are you doing, lass?" he asked, his good eye on her and his magical one skimming over the boxes. "Any leads yet?"

"No," she sighed, disheartened. "In fact, I don't even have any hard evidence Lockhart's done anything wrong at all!"

"Nothing came out of going up to Hogwarts, then?"

Well, she wouldn't say _that_… But Tonks doubted that meeting a certain intriguing professor was what Mad-Eye was referring to. "I brought back the contents of his office," she explained, gesturing towards the items and trying hard to keep all unrelated thoughts out of her head. "I'm sifting through them now, but so far there's nothing incriminating."

"Keep going," Moody nodded approvingly. "Everybody has something to hide – you'll find it in time."

"I know, I know," she said. "But if I have to read any more of his so-called 'epic tales', I'll go barmy! Have you actually ever read any of his books?"

"Why would I?" he snorted. "If it's not a training manual or a Dark Arts textbook, there's not much point, is there? Books are all too easy to curse, you know! Did I ever tell you about that one book hexed to liquefy the brain of anybody that so much as read a word of it?"

"This doesn't even need a curse to rot your brains," Tonks scoffed with derision. "Listen to this." She cleared her throat, picked a passage at random, and with a breathy voice began to read, "_The loathsome lycanthrope had me cornered. It was merely a few metres away from me, and slowly skulking closer. Its hackles were raised, its growls floated like a sinister symphony through the silent night air, and I could smell its foul, fetid breath. Of course, I could have Apparated away in an instant, thereby saving my life – however, had I done so, the werewolf surely would have turned around and continued to stalk the village in search of a satiating meal of some poor, unsuspecting soul. Even worse, I knew that merely a few houses down there was an orphanage, full of impoverished, unfortunate, and utterly defenceless children. What sort of man would leave such innocent victims in the path of this horrifying creature? Despite my own overwhelming fear, I simply could not turn tail and run, leaving them to the jaws of this ferocious, bloodthirsty beast! And so I summoned all my courage, drew my wand, and stood my ground, praying that my spell would hit the menacing monster before me with the precision of Cupid's arrows."_

"If he really did any of that, I'll eat my wooden leg," Moody grumbled, shaking his head. "Don't you give up, lass. Lockhart is no criminal mastermind. He'll have slipped up somewhere, and you'll find it eventually."

"Thanks, Mad-Eye," Tonks smiled slightly, giving him a wave as he clomped away.

Turning back to the book, she focused on her mentor's advice. He was certainly right about Lockhart by no means being a genius. Surely he had made some sort of mistake along the way (they always did), and all she had to do was find it.

Of course, that was easier said than done.

Flipping through more pages, she still failed to find anything useful. Most of the writing was merely Lockhart gushing about himself – and what did that prove except how full of himself he was? But suddenly she was struck with an idea. The florid and exaggerated narrative wouldn't be of any use to her investigation, but the details buried within it might actually be helpful! Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill, Tonks began jotting down any places, dates and names she could find in the books. Once that was done, she could cross-reference them with any files the Ministry had; she wasn't quite sure what that would prove, but it would be a start!

And it would certainly be more productive than sitting in her cubicle, being distracted by Remus Lupin once again…

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**Next chapter** – just what sorts of interesting items will Tonks find when she searches Lockhart's not-so-humble abode?

Many thanks to all those who commented on the previous chapters! There's nothing better than finding some lovely reviews in your inbox, and now that a certain werewolf has entered the picture, hopefully he might prompt you to leave a few words to let me know how things are progressing… ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


	4. Setbacks in Searching

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 4 – Setbacks in Searching **

The next day Tonks found herself yet again sorting through piles of parchment; but rather than organizing other Aurors' dry reports, this time she was dealing with her own work, and pouring over the lists she had compiled from Lockhart's books. Noting all the names of people and places that he had mentioned, she then checked them against any references and records in the Ministry that she could find. Technically it was just more paperwork, but she was pleased to learn that it was much less painful to do when it was in pursuit of her very own case.

Unfortunately, the results were not as promising.

She poured over maps, trying to pinpoint the locations of the villages Lockhart visited; she scoured the census records, both for the United Kingdom and abroad, in search of the witches and wizards he mentioned; she braved the historical archives to try and find any documentation for his epic deeds. She had read over so many words that her eyesight was blurring, she had gone through so much parchment that her hands were covered with countless paper cuts and ink stains, and she had made so many Floo calls to foreign Ministries that the insides of her lungs were no doubt coated in soot.

And what did she have to show for it all? Nothing.

Nowhere did Tonks find _any_ of the people, places, or things Lockhart described so floridly in his books. As far as any sort of official documentation was concerned, they didn't exist – and that sent Tonks' suspicions off the charts. If Gilderoy Lockhart's heroic deeds had in fact taken place, why would he have altered all the details to make them untraceable? He certainly seemed the type to want as much attention as possible; so why go through all the trouble of so thoroughly concealing all the particulars?

Tonks could think of two possible scenarios. Option one: Lockhart had lied about his epic exploits and his books were entirely fictitious. Option two: Lockhart had still lied, but took credit for the heroic deeds of memory-modified individuals. Of course, she had no proof of either way just yet.

Well, if there was nothing incriminating amongst his effects at Hogwarts, the next step would be to search his home. After opening all of the drawers in her desk and scrabbling through spare pieces of parchment and old interdepartmental memos that she'd stuffed away, Tonks pulled out a Serious Need Of Official Prying form and proceeded to fill it out. With any luck, she would be able to obtain a warrant for what was sure to be Lockhart's not-so-humble abode within a few hours.

All the blanks in the SNOOP form were soon written in (after all, she was practically an expert in paperwork by now) and she was then ready to take it to Scrimgeour. Tonks leapt from her chair a bit overzealously, and managed to knock some of Lockhart's books to the ground.

"Bugger," she sighed, and gave a quick flick of her wand to pack away the evidence strewn across her desk. It flew across the cubicle and landed in the boxes very haphazardly, nowhere near as neat as it had been packed in to begin with. Packed in so nicely and neatly by a certain nice and neat Professor…

Merlin's balls, why did she keep thinking about him? Just because a handsome and polite gentleman had flirted with her was no reason to go all aflutter! She was acting like a schoolgirl with a crush. In fact, she would bet that a number of his new students would develop crushes on him…

Oh, what was she thinking? Enough was enough! Grabbing the warrant request form, Tonks strode purposefully out of her cubicle and toward the Head of Aurors' office. She had work to do.

However, on her way, a deep voice called out her name and made her stop in her tracks. "Tonks, come in here for a second!"

"Wotcher, Kingsley," she greeted, slipping into his cubicle. "Need something?"

"What's this I hear about you getting your very own case?" he grinned. "How goes it?"

"Absolutely spiffing," she told him, trying to inject more confidence into her words than she actually felt.

The other Auror shot her a knowing look. "You've got nothing, have you?"

"Is it that obvious?" she wailed, and quickly filled him in on what had happened so far.

"Don't worry, Tonks," Kingsley smiled. "Every Auror's first case starts out that way. You seem to be on the right track, at any rate – eventually you'll find something, and everything else will just fall into place."

"Oh yeah? You haven't found _your_ missing piece of the puzzle yet, have you?" she queried sceptically, gesturing to the dozens of folders from the Sirius Black search scattered across his desk. Every time she came into his cubicle, his pile of Sirius Sightings seemed to be taller and taller.

"Not yet, but it's only a matter of time," he told her firmly, starting in on an anecdote about another of his cases that had seemed impossible until the perp's talking parrot had provide him with a clue. However, Tonks didn't hear a word he said, because a name amongst the folders caught her eye.

"What's this?" she interrupted him, pointing at the file labelled _Remus Lupin_.

"Hmm?" He glanced at the file, but then waved it away without concern. "Oh, Remus. Just another connection to Black case."

"Yeah, I gathered that already, since that's the only case you're working on," she said exasperatedly. "_How_ is he connected?" She wasn't entirely sure as to why she felt so nervous to hear his answer. Surely the polite man she had met yesterday couldn't have anything to do with a notorious mass-murderer!

"He was a schoolmate of Sirius'… Says he hasn't the foggiest idea about where he'd be, and I believe him – but you know we have to check all the bases," Kingsley told her nonchalantly, and she couldn't help but feel relieved. It must have shown on her face, however, because he then eyed her a bit more carefully. "Why? Does the name mean something do you?"

Tonks tried to act casual. "No, I just met him at Hogwarts yesterday, that's all. He seemed nice."

It took a valiant effort on her part not to blush madly when he then laughed and roared, "Ah, we all know what it really means when a woman thinks a man is _nice_! He's caught your eye, hasn't he?"

She quickly tried to think of a retort, a casual way to brush his accusation off – except the only thing that would come out of her mouth was, "Oh, sod off, he has not!" Very mature, she then chastised herself.

"Well done, Tonks, that's certainly convinced me," Kingsley continued to chuckle, and Tonks couldn't stop the heat from rising to her face any longer.

"I, er… I have to go!" she cried, waving the SNOOP form she still held in her hand through the air. Her flimsy – albeit true – excuse made, she then rushed out of Shacklebolt's cubicle. She needed to get away from all the distractions around her, whether they were Kingsley's teasing or her own thoughts of Lupin!

-x-x-x-

Later that day, Tonks Apparated to Lockhart Manor, a sprawling estate a ways outside of Belfast. She stumbled down the winding stone walkway towards the house, passing a few peacocks that were wandering about the yard. She couldn't help but notice they looked rather disgruntled, as they tried to display their tails for the peahens with most of their plumage missing. Well, that explained Lockhart's abundance of peacock quills… Maybe the birds would finally get some peace with him in St. Mungo's.

When she reached the front stoop, she pulled the warrant out of her robes. She had to admit, she was pleasantly surprised as to how quickly Scrimgeour had given her the go-ahead. But had it been on the merits of her search request, or simply because he was too busy with more important matters? She decided not to think about that right now, and showed the warrant to the door. Its locks magically unlatched and it sprang open. Taking a deep breath, Tonks stepped inside.

She was right to brace herself. The garish décor practically blinded her: there was an overabundance of Rococo furniture, gold gilt as far as the eye could see, and just the entrance hallway alone had enough pictures of him to confuse visitors into thinking they had just stepped into the National Gilderoy Lockhart Portrait Gallery. Already the news was being whispered from frame to frame that there was a person there to see them, and within seconds all the portraits were preening, winking, and flashing their blindingly white grins at Tonks.

She had a feeling this was going to be a _very_ long afternoon. Nevertheless, she strode forward and began her search.

The first room she entered was a sitting room. Lockhart probably wouldn't have stashed anything important in there, but Tonks was determined to leave no stone unturned. She went about casting detection spells, peeking through drawers and shelves, and even checking behind every single hanging frame for any hidden safes in the walls (much to the chagrin of the portraits, who shouted at her for manhandling them).

She did the same in every other room, until she found herself in the last room of the house: the master bedroom. It was as ostentatious as all the rest, with the walls painted lilac and a chintzy king-sized bed covered in royal purple sheets taking up most of the space – but it was the display of trophies that really captured the eye. Tonks couldn't stop her jaw from dropping as she took in Lockhart's very own Wall of Fame, a floor-to-ceiling shelf covered with framed newspaper articles and photos, plaques, certificates, and trophies. It must have held every single award he had ever won! There was his Order of Merlin, his membership badge for the Dark Force Defence League, and all five _Witch Weekly_ Most-Charming-Smile Awards, with the moulds of golden teeth beaming down at her.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Tonks turned away, determined not to be distracted by all the shiny objects. She made her way over to the desk in the corner, and began to rifle through it. There were a few loose pieces of parchment, some old bills and receipts (Merlin, the man spent a fortune on his hair!) and an outdated calendar. She even checked the backs of the drawers for hidden compartments, but there was absolutely nothing.

Grumbling to herself, she moved to the closet. Was it too much to hope that Lockhart was like her Granny Tonks, and kept important papers hidden away in a hatbox? She threw open the doors, only to find a few dozen robes of various colours hanging inside. She shoved them away, scouring for any hatboxes, or any boxes at all, but there were none. Nor were there any hidden cubbies in the floorboards, or nooks in the ceiling.

Bugger.

Straightening up, Tonks ran her fingers roughly through her hair (plum-coloured today) in frustration. Now what? There was nothing useful in this bloody house at all – unless she were a member of the Gilderoy Lockhart fan club, in which case she would have been in heaven.

Groaning, she walked over and flopped herself down on the bed, heaving a gigantic sigh. That turned into a bit of a shriek when it started wobbling beneath her, until she realized Lockhart must have splurged on a Hypnos Hydrobed. The posh git, she grumbled to herself, before giving herself over to the wavy motion beneath her and trying to relax.

_Think_, she told herself. What was the next step? Just because she hadn't found anything here didn't mean that incriminating evidence wasn't squired away _somewhere_…

Then it hit her. She hadn't found anything in his home at all, and that in itself was suspicious! Where were his most recent bills and royalties? What of his appointments, his correspondence? There had to be more recent paperwork; the latest date that she had found on the effects in his desk was from exactly one year ago, in August, before he had accepted the DADA post.

Of course, Tonks realized, smacking herself in the head for overlooking something so completely obvious. While he was at Hogwarts, his private papers would have been kept close by. And since they hadn't been amongst the possessions she had confiscated from his office… They must have been in his private quarters, which she hadn't searched through! How could she have missed that? In her defence, during her years at school she had gotten used to the fact that Professors seemed to live in their classrooms; it wasn't exactly conducive to one's mental health to think of the things they were likely to do in their private living areas.

"Bloody brilliant reasoning, Auror Tonks," she muttered to herself. "You couldn't have thought of this sooner? Perhaps when you were already at the school?"

Then again, she _had_ been a bit thrown by a certain professor, she rationalized. And at that thought, she suddenly sat up. She had a legitimate reason to go back to Hogwarts now – and with any luck, she might run into Remus Lupin again! Despite not finding any useful evidence in her case just yet, and despite popping a hole in Lockhart's waterbed as she stood to leave the manor, Tonks couldn't stop grinning at the possibility.

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**Next chapter** – Tonks has a breakthrough in her case, a large part of which is due to one very helpful professor! That's right, he doesn't just stand there and look pretty…

Once again, huge thanks to all who have reviewed! Virtual cookies for all. Now, how's about keeping it up and leaving me a few words for this chapter too? I know there was no Remus this time around, which is practically sacrilegious, but he'll be back next chapter, I swear, being his usual charming self. And perhaps he'll feel like sharing some of that charm with those of you who review? ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


	5. Brainstorming with a Bloke

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 5 – Brainstorming with a Bloke**

The next day found Tonks back at Hogwarts, only this time she stood outside one of the private quarters. Although she had explored much of the castle as a student (her Metamorphmagus abilities proving rather useful for unquestioned exploration in areas where she shouldn't have been), she had never actually stepped foot inside a teacher's room before. She had to admit, she was quite curious to see how posh the professors' living spaces would be; she started to imagine Greek columns, classical engravings, and moving murals on the walls as she opened the door to Lockhart's former residence.

The room in front of her didn't match the one from her imagination, but it was cozy nonetheless. She entered into a large, wood-panelled parlour; there was a plush navy seating set in the middle of the room, a cluttered desk in the corner, and a sturdy bookshelf against one wall. Some boxes lay on the floor in front of the hearth; it seemed Lockhart had tried to pack up in here as well. Beyond the fireplace was a door to what she assumed would be a bathroom, and beyond that an open door displayed the bedroom, in which she could see a large four poster bed.

All in all, it was very homey, much like the students' dormitories – except for one glaring difference. The students' rooms didn't have handsome professors standing inside of them.

Tonks jumped a bit as she noticed the man standing in the doorway to the bedroom. "Remus!" she gasped in surprise, before attempting to sound a bit more professional. "Er, I mean, Professor Lupin! I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here!" Although truth be told, she couldn't say she was sorry to have run into him once more.

"That's quite alright," Remus smiled, walking over to her. "This is certainly a pleasant surprise. It's lovely to see you again, Tonks."

"Yes, nice to see you too," she replied, beaming like a fool. They simply stared at each other for a few seconds before she felt the need to fill the silence. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in here like I did. Am I interrupting you?"

"Technically, yes, but I won't hold it against you," he teased lightly, before gesturing to the boxes around them that Tonks had assumed were Lockhart's. "I was just moving in, and trying to clear out my predecessor's things. A bit of déjà vu, isn't it? This seems eerily like our last meeting…"

"Eerily?" Tonks giggled, having had the same thought. "That implies something odd, doesn't it? I thought our meeting was nothing but pleasant!" As soon as those words left her mouth, she winced. Could she sound any more desperate?

But Remus only grinned, staring at her intensely. "That's very good to know. And the feeling is mutual."

Merlin, why was this man so utterly disarming? Again, Tonks grappled for something to say. "I didn't realize you were moving in," she blurted out dumbly, wondering why the possibility hadn't crossed her mind. "I really am sorry for barging in like this. I only wanted to go through more of Lockhart's things. I mean, I'm still not here to investigate _you_!" she added lamely. Oh, well _done_, she then scolded herself scathingly.

To her relief, he actually chuckled. "Really, it's no problem. In fact, it's quite fortuitous that you're here, since I had absolutely no clue what to do with Lockhart's rather sizable assortment of hair curlers," he said wryly, lightly kicking one of the boxes at his feet.

"Hair curlers?" she repeated dully. Bloody hell, what if all she was going to find was beauty supplies?

"Yes, and there are more in the bathroom, along with an extensive cologne collection and more bottles of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion than I think any wizard could ever have use for," Remus added. "That's all that I've managed to pack up so far; hopefully the rest of his possessions might be of more use to you."

"Let's hope," Tonks sighed, casting a desperate glance towards the papers on the desk.

Lupin must have caught her rather anxious expression, as he then kindly inquired, "Is your case going well?"

"Oh, um… We're really not supposed to comment on cases currently under investigation," she wheedled, not meeting his eye. What a pathetic excuse, particularly when she'd already talked to him about it during their last meeting! But now she felt very reluctant to admit that she had gotten absolutely nowhere in her investigation; for reasons Tonks didn't entirely want to delve into, she wanted to impress the man in front of her.

However, he wasn't fooled. "Ah, that well, eh?" he smirked.

She gaped at him for a moment, but then couldn't help but laugh. "How'd you know?"

"Just a guess," he said innocently, before gallantly sweeping his arm towards the desk. "Let's see if we can't find something in here to make this trip worth your while, shall we?"

Privately, Tonks thought their flirtatious little exchange – no matter how much of a fool she might have made of herself in the process – had already been well worth the travel time from London; still, she nodded and followed Remus over to the desk. They perused the papers spread on top of it, only to find more fan mail and a few letters from Lockhart's publisher about ideas for a new book. A few quick _Alohomoras_ allowed them access to the locked drawers below, but they merely found more of the same. The only new piece of information was a note on what appeared to be the development of a hair-care line (_Lockhart's Luscious Locks – If your wand doesn't Stun evil creatures, at least your hair will_!).

Disappointed, Tonks conjured a box and the two of them stacked all the parchment inside. She decided she might as well take it back to the Ministry and file it away with all the rest of Lockhart's useless effects.

"I'm sorry you haven't found anything yet. I'm afraid I'm having all the luck today – not only do I get another pair of hands to help me clean my quarters, but I get the company of a lovely young witch as well," Remus told her with a smile, trying to lift her spirits.

It worked somewhat, and she had to bite her lip to keep from tittering too much like a schoolgirl. "Well, I don't know how much help I'll be with the actual cleaning… In fact, I feel I should warn you now that I'm dead clumsy, so maybe you should keep your breakables away from me."

He raised a brow challengingly. "I'm willing to take the risk."

"Then you're a brave man," she shot back.

"Only sometimes," Remus shrugged. Then he shot her an impish look that seemed to take years off his face as he playfully said, "For instance, I don't think I could bear to investigate Gilderoy Lockhart's bedroom without Auror backup."

Tonks smirked. "Then lucky for you that I'm here, isn't it?"

"Indeed. I think we've already established that I'm very lucky today…"

Merlin, was he making it his _mission_ to make her blush? He was certainly succeeding. _Focus_, she shouted at herself, and tried to redirect their flirtation back to the investigation. "Mind sharing some of that luck with me?"

"I'd love to," he said, beginning to head towards the other room. "You shouldn't give up just yet – people always hide things they don't want others to see in their bedrooms, don't they?"

"Depending on what exactly he's hidden there, that's what I'm afraid of," she joked.

"Me too – so I think I'll let you take the lead here, shall I?" he grinned, chivalrously holding the bedroom door open and waving her inside. Tonks found she very much appreciated his contrasting actions – first treating her like a lady by getting the door for her, but then not making her feel like the weaker sex by taking the lead in the search.

Of course, thoughts on sexism and equality were somewhat heavy topics to introduce into their flirtations, so she instead reverted to what seemed to be her default setting when nervous: cracking jokes. "I take back what I said about you being a brave man," she groused good-naturedly, and he laughed in return.

Tonks headed for one of the bedside tables, praying that there wouldn't be anything too terribly embarrassing inside. No such luck. Opening the drawer, she found some issues of _PlayWizard_, and –

"Are those _handcuffs_? And _feathers_?" Remus snickered as she gingerly pulled out a long, black plume that was definitely not used for writing. "While that certainly sheds light on some of his activities, I doubt they're the ones you needed to learn about."

"Or _wanted_ to know about," she added with a shudder as she dropped the feather and hastily shut the drawer. Spinning, she pulled open the doors behind her. "I don't think he's one to worry about clichés – so maybe he hides his skeletons in the closet?"

Thankfully there were no literal skeletons inside, but the sight before her still made Tonks gape. Lockhart had magically expanded the inside of the closet, and she could have sworn it was larger than her entire flat. There was also a veritable rainbow of robes hanging there, ranging from blood red to robin's egg blue.

"I don't think I have _half_ this many clothes," Remus marvelled, reaching out and running a hand down the sleeve of some silken emerald dress robes.

"That's probably a good thing," Tonks mused, pulling out a sunshine yellow ensemble and draping it across her body. "You might accidentally blind your students if you wore something like this!" Without thinking, she playfully changed her hair from the deep indigo it had been since the morning to a bright yellow, to match the robes.

She only realized what she had done when Remus didn't respond. Glancing up at him, she found his eyes locked on her hair, and his brow slowly rising in curiosity. "I'm sorry, did your hair just… change?"

"Oh. Yeah, it did," she muttered quietly, averting her gaze. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Internally, she was cursing herself; she hadn't wanted to have the Metamorphmagus conversation yet, considering it tended to ruin her perceptions of men. And she was having such a nice time with Remus too!

"No, no, you don't need to apologize… I just wanted to make sure cleaning up all those colognes earlier didn't go to my head," he chuckled wryly, sticking his hands in his trouser pockets in an almost boyish gesture. "You're a Metamorphmagus, then?"

"That's right," she nodded, nervously fiddling with the hem of the robes she was still holding in her hands, as she waited for one of the two inevitable responses that came after that revelation: either a flurry of crazy questions, or a morphing request.

However, to Tonks' complete and utter surprise, she received neither. Instead, Remus casually commented, "Ah. I was thinking that perhaps you used potions on your hair every day to keep Moody on his toes…"

She blinked and looked back at him, unused to this unusual turn in conversation. Was that it? No leering, or pointed questions about just how much of her body she could change? It was as if she had raised a hand in class and simply answered a question correctly, and now they were moving on. She had never received that sort of reaction before, and it left her thrown and quite unsure of what to say. The first thing her brain managed to come up with was, "You know Mad-Eye?"

"Yes, we're old acquaintances."

He didn't elaborate on how exactly they knew each other, and Tonks didn't want to pry, even though her interest was piqued. She decided to steer the conversation in the safer direction, so as not to tempt her nosiness. "Well, there's nothing more fun than pulling one over on Mad-Eye, but he's used to the obnoxious hair choices by now."

"I would hardly call them obnoxious!" he protested. "That shade really brightens up the room. Not to mention, bold colours seem to suit you. You're very colourful."

So colourful that even her face wanted to turn red at that comment. Quickly, she tried to distract him, away from thoughts of Metamorphmagi and thoughts of her, no matter how flattering those might have been (or was that just wishful thinking on her part?). It was time to turn back to the matter at hand. "As colourful as this closet?"

Remus was gracious enough to follow her lead. "Now, _that_ is definitely obnoxious."

"You should see his house." Tonks rolled her eyes and stuck the garment back onto the hanger, before waving a hand towards the shelf above the row of robes. "How about you put that height of yours to good use and check the top of the closet, while I check the bottom?"

They tackled the closet together, but the most interesting thing they found was Lockhart's stash of Ogden's Old Firewhisky. That left only the other bedside table, and Tonks fervently hoped there wouldn't be something like chains or a whip inside. Walking over, she held her breath as she slowly pulled open the drawer.

The only thing inside was a small leather-bound notebook and a quill.

"If this is just his little black book, I think I will scream," she gritted out, almost afraid to crack the spine.

"There's only one way to find out."

Bracing herself, she flipped open to the first page and started skimming over the jotted down notes. At the top of the page were the words _Prattle with a Professor_, which were then crossed out. Under them was _Learning with Lockhart_, which was again crossed out. After that it seemed Lockhart had just given up and noted, _Make W.S. think of title._ The pages that followed were filled with various dates and accompanying notes.

_September 2 – First day of classes. Students seemed intimidated by my fame, but eager to learn from me. Lost count of the number of autograph requests._

_November 7 – Deboned Harry Potter's arm after nasty Quidditch accident, he was filled with gratitude. Not bad on a broomstick; offered to show him some of my own flying moves. Tell W.S. to flesh out an entire chapter on teaching HP, the public seems interested in him._

_December 17 – Started duelling club, wonderful turnout. Students all very impressed by my talents._

"Looks like Lockhart was preparing to write a new book about his teaching experiences," Tonks murmured, still flipping through the pages and occasionally scoffing at the notes she found there. "But there's no mention of Memory Charms at all. This actually seems legitimate, unfortunately."

"Even without any fraud, I'm sure the legitimacy of his works could be debated," Remus mused sarcastically.

"I can see why," she snickered, trying very hard not to snort in laughter at what she had just read. "Listen to this: '_Make sure to mention my excellent wandwork; it was quick and exact, my spell piercing my opponent with the sharpness and precision of Cupid's arrows'_. Merlin, that sounds like it belongs in a Fifi LaFolle book, doesn't it?"

When Lupin didn't laugh at her joke (although she had to admit, it was rather lame), Tonks glanced over at him. His brow was creased, and he appeared to be deep in thought. "That sounds familiar, somehow…"

"He's probably used the phrase before. In fact, I was just reading _Wanderings with Werewolves_, and I'm almost positive that was in there somewhere," she suggested.

"Yes, that's one of Lockhart's works that I've actually read," he said, somewhat curtly, for some reason seeming uncomfortable at that admission. "But I don't think that's where I'm recognizing it from. It's a rather unique phrase, isn't it? I'm sure I've heard it somewhere before!"

She tried to cast her mind back and think of where else that particular wording might have appeared, but found herself somewhat distracted by the adorable look of concentration that graced Remus' face. Luckily, he then snapped his fingers and exclaimed, "I think I have it! But I need to check one of my textbooks – would you care to accompany me to my office?"

The first thought that popped into Tonks' mind was that she would accompany him wherever he wanted – but luckily, she managed to bite her tongue before blurting that out. She instead managed to come up with a more demure answer before following him through the castle and back downstairs, to where they had first run into each other.

"I see you finished unpacking," she noted, casting her eyes around the office, which was now stocked full of (_legitimate_) books, had some maps and anatomical diagrams of various magical creatures framed and hanging on the wall, and even boasted an empty aquarium in the corner. "Nice to see that you didn't cover the walls with pictures of yourself… Er, not that you shouldn't! Pictures of you would be… uh, lovely, but…" Tonks winced, trying to find something to say that wouldn't imply she didn't think he wasn't handsome enough to hang pictures of himself (which certainly wasn't the case!), but at the same time not sound too desperate. It was hopeless. "I just mean, it looks very professional," she sighed in defeat. Smooth, very smooth.

"Thank you," Remus grinned widely at her, after managing to suppress the majority of his snickers. "I thought I'd keep with the theme of the office. Lockhart's pictures clearly indicated he was an expert on himself, so I figured that pictures of my area of expertise would be appropriate as well."

"Dark creatures, eh?" she mused, glancing over a framed Japanese ink rendering of a Kappa. "Impressive."

"Again, thank you," he smiled, more bashfully this time, before heading straight for a bookshelf and running a finger over a few spines. Two rows down he apparently found the volume he was searching for and pulled it out. "Now, I think what we're looking for is in this one…" he murmured to himself, before beginning to flip through it.

Tonks tried her best to wait patiently and not ask questions; he probably didn't enjoy being interrupted during his reading. Luckily for her rapidly dwindling patience, however, it took only a few minutes before Lupin exclaimed, "I've found it!"

He rushed over, sidling right up beside her (suddenly she couldn't help but wonder if it had gotten warmer in the room) and holding open a copy of _Wicked Wandwork: A Collection of Curses and the Moves That Might Very Well Save You_. He pointed a finger at a specific passage and began to read:

"_Take note, dear readers, that reading my book can only offer you so much protection from nefarious forces. Although the spells and counter-curses imparted within may be invaluable to you, there may come the occasion where simply knowing them is not enough. Too often our reflexes and reactions determine our fate; if they are hindered, your fate may be sealed. It is absolutely essential to train yourself to react with all the speed you can muster, and to train your wand to be quick and exact. The goal is to have your spells pierce your opponents with the sharpness and precision of Cupid's arrows."_

"What are the odds that exact same line would appear here and in Lockhart's books?" Tonks wondered aloud. "I mean, it is rather… um, unique, isn't it? Frankly, I don't think any other author would be caught dead using a phrase like that."

"Perhaps Lockhart plagiarized from this Webster Scribersham?" Remus suggested, shutting the book and glancing at the author's name on its cover. "At times he does have a rather… florid style that it seems Lockhart would appreciate."

"If he's taken credit for other people's actions, I don't suppose taking other people's writing would be outside the realm of possibility," she mused thoughtfully, staring at the cover of Scribersham's book as if it would provide her with an answer.

And suddenly, it did.

"Webster Scribersham!" she gasped. "W.S. – as in, the one from his notes! Maybe Lockhart didn't steal his phrases – maybe Scribersham actually _wrote_ them!"

"You think Lockhart used a ghostwriter?" Remus asked, mulling over the idea while nodding slowly.

"That seems to be what these notes point to," Tonks said, gesturing to the notebook she still held her in hands, getting more and more excited about her idea as the pieces slowly began to fall into place. "All these little comments of '_Tell W.S. to flesh out an entire chapter'_, and '_Make W.S. think of title'_ must be instructions to the real author! And this certainly explains the stylistic similarities between Scribersham's and Lockhart's books – I'm betting if we went through all of his works, it'd be even clearer."

"Hopefully that won't be necessary," Lupin smirked. "That's too cruel a task to set to anybody."

"I agree," she chuckled, wincing at what an arduous task that would be. "But with any luck, Webster Scribersham will be able to confirm this theory instead. Oh, this is wonderful! Lockhart may not be able to testify about his actions, but maybe Scribersham will! This could be the break I've been looking for!"

She felt so elated to finally have a theory to go on that she felt like jumping up and down; however, she managed to fight the urge, reminding herself that she wanted to present as professional and dignified a front as she could in front of Remus. And speaking of…

Tonks whirled towards him and couldn't help but start gushing. "Thank you _so_ much for your help, Remus! I don't think I could have come up with this without you."

"Nonsense," he insisted, but nevertheless looked quite chuffed at her remark. "Don't sell yourself short – I'm sure you would have cracked it on your own."

"Still," she maintained, "You've been a great help. I'm not sure how to thank you." And quite honestly, she didn't have the slightest idea. A small part of her was screaming that this was the perfect opportunity to offer to take him out to dinner or for coffee, as a small way to show her appreciation. Or would that have awkward written all over it? She was about as poised in asking blokes out as she was nimble on her feet.

"Please, there's really no need to thank me," he said modestly, and she actually felt a bit disappointed. A part of her had been hoping that he would perhaps step in himself and suggest they go out… But then her spirits were raised when Remus suggested, "Although, if it's not too much trouble, do you think you'd be able to let me know how your investigation turns out? I feel somewhat a part of it now, you see, and I'm afraid I'm insatiably curious to see what happens."

Well, he certainly wasn't the only one who was insatiably curious! Perhaps Tonks hadn't done all she could have to maintain her professionalism, but she decided it couldn't be helped; there was something undeniably intriguing about Professor Remus Lupin. And now that she had both a lead in her case _and _a valid reason to contact Remus again, she couldn't stop an enormous grin from splitting her face. "Oh no, that wouldn't be too much trouble at all."

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**A/N:** Just a quick note on my choice of naming Webster Scribersham, for all you etymology nerds. According to a website on name meaings I found, Webster is from a surname meaning 'weaver' in Old English (which I'm twisting to the context of weaving stories, not materials, obviously). And for the last name, I sort of tried to combine 'scribere', which is Latin for the verb 'to write', with 'sham', obviously implying some fakery – and that came to Scribersham, which I think has a nice sort of ring to it. ;)

**Next chapter** – just what will Mr. Scribersham have to say for himself?

Well, I've just started school again, which is sort of a drag. Even more annoying is the fact that I'm already swamped with work! If only I had a Professor like Remus… Anyhoo, here's hoping that updates will continue to come regularly – I promise I'll try my best. However, reviews might help! Thanks to all those who have already left comments. Now, what incentive might I offer for you to leave some more? Hmm, maybe Remus might help reviewers clean out their quarters, or even read to them? He's just so helpful like that.

Toodles,

– ish –


	6. Ferreting through Finances

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 6 – Ferreting through Finances**

The first thing Tonks did after coming up with the Scribersham theory (well, the second thing, after chastising herself for not being able to summon up the guts to ask Remus Lupin out properly) was go back to the Ministry. There she paid a visit to the department of Wizarding Accounting, Revenue and Tax Services; one of the first rules of investigation was to follow the money, and that was exactly what she planned on doing.

She quickly filled out a few WARTS forms, requesting to view the financial histories of both Gilderoy Lockhart and Webster Scribersham. She decided to go back quite a few years, to when Lockhart's first work was published; with any luck, she would find a pattern of payments from one man to the other that roughly corresponded to the releases of his books. Or did she just jinx herself, Tonks wondered, as she waited for the bored-looking secretary to summon all the files.

It seemed the WARTS office had even less work to do than she'd had before being assigned her case, because the paperwork was compiled rather quickly. Within half an hour she was presented with two large folders, both stuffed to the brim with parchment. Silently wishing they would contain what she needed, Tonks nodded her thanks and took them back to her cubicle.

Bracing herself, she then opened Lockhart's folder, only to find pages upon pages of intimidating-looking numbers staring back at her. She grimaced. She had always despised Arithmancy in school, but she soldiered on. It took her a few minutes, but she managed to find the previous year's tax form, and she dragged her finger down the parchment until she found the section for business expenses.

Lockhart seemed to spend an inordinate amount on quills and pictures, which didn't surprise Tonks. But really, citing the copying of his autographed photos as business expenditures? Clearly the man had a very sneaky and creative accountant. However, she then came across something interesting – a 2,000 Galleon expense, described as a 'consulting fee', dated a few months before _Magical_ _Me_ had been released.

The form was sufficiently vague as not to provide any more details about just what sort of consulting had taken place, although Tonks had her suspicions. Flipping open Scribersham's folder, she scanned his previous year's tax report and found a similar notation – he had received 2,000 Galleons worth of income for doing 'consulting' work.

Tonks' breath caught in her throat. This could be it! But she fought to subdue the wide grin that wanted to break out across her face. There was still more to check before getting her hopes up…

Luckily, she need not have worried. For every year that Lockhart had released one of his books, he had a consulting fee noted under his business expenses; more importantly, for every single one of those instances, Scribersham had the corresponding amount noted as income. Was it simply a coincidence? Tonks very much doubted it.

This was it, she decided. This was exactly the start she needed; now she had enough information to go pay Webster Scribersham a visit.

-x-x-x-

Her files told her that Scribersham lived in Middle Littleton, a small village just off the Avon river. She Apparated there that afternoon, and found herself standing outside a quaint bungalow. When she knocked on the door, a rotund little man answered. He looked to be just on the wrong side of middle-aged, with a bald spot in the midst of tussled, rapidly greying blonde hair.

"Mr. Scribersham?" she enquired politely.

"Yes, how may I help you?" he asked, pushing his pair of tortoiseshell eyeglasses up the bridge of his nose.

"I'm Auror Tonks," she introduced herself, flashing her badge and ignoring the 'Trainee' part of her title once again. "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

He blinked, surprised at the nature of his visitor, but recovered quickly. "Of course not. Please, come in." Stepping aside, he gestured her in before shutting the door. "What is this about, exactly?" he wondered curiously, leading her into the sitting room.

Tonks scanned the room as she moved towards a chair, and managed to only stub her toe once. It was a sparse house, with mismatched furniture and flowered curtains; the décor screamed of the seventies, and she would have bet money that the man hadn't made any changes to the house since inheriting it from his mother. If Scribersham and Lockhart had indeed hatched some plot, it was clear from the comparison of their respective abodes that the partnership was rather one-sided.

And that was exactly what she was there to find out about. "Do you know Gilderoy Lockhart?" she queried, deciding not to beat around the bush.

"Everybody knows Gilderoy Lockhart, don't they?" he laughed nervously.

It didn't escape Tonks' notice that he had evaded her question. "I'm looking for a bit more than that. You worked with him, didn't you?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Scribersham hemmed and hawed, pushing his glasses up again in what seemed to be a nervous gesture of his.

"Look, Mr. Scribersham, I already know that you worked for him, and that he paid you 'consulting fees'," she informed him, tipping her hand and hoping it would pay off. "I just need to know what exactly your job entailed."

He shook his head. "I really can't talk about this."

"Mr. Scribersham, I'm not here to get you into any trouble; you're not the subject of my investigation," Tonks told him in a soothing voice. That being said, she had no qualms with providing some incentive for him to talk to her, so she rapidly switched to a no-nonsense tone before adding, "However, if you don't cooperate, you might very well _become_ the new subject of my investigation."

"What?" the man cried in a panic, before biting his lip. She honestly thought she had scared him into cooperating, but after a moment's consideration, he again shook his head. "No, no… I'm sorry, but I literally _can't_ talk about this! Yes, I worked for Lockhart, but I've signed a non-disclosure contract! Unless I want him to sue me for every Sickle I have, I have to keep my mouth shut."

A contract? Tonks almost wanted to breathe a sigh of relief; a contract was much easier to get around than something like an Unbreakable Vow. "I don't think you have to worry about that," she assured him. "Lockhart isn't going to sue you; he's in no condition to remember if he made a contract with Merlin himself."

"Really?" Scribersham wondered, blinking in bewilderment. Clearly the extent of the other man's condition was news to him.

"Really. His prognosis isn't very good – and even if he _does_ remember, it's perfectly safe for you to talk to me. Magical Law Enforcement investigations take precedence over any contracts that would obstruct the course of justice," she informed him, while internally patting herself on the back. That had sounded so professional! She was quite proud of herself for remembering that. And out of nowhere, a stray thought came about that wished Remus had been around to hear that too... But she quickly shook her head. Focus!

"Very well then," Scribersham agreed slowly, although clearly still anxious. "But as far as I know, I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Why don't you start with telling me what you did for Lockhart?" Tonks smiled gently. He was so close to spilling the beans, she didn't want to scare him off now!

"Well, to be perfectly honest, I… Er, I…"

She raised a brow. "Wrote his books?"

"Yes," he admitted with a shameful sigh. "Ghostwriting wasn't my ideal career choice, of course, but it paid enough to help fund the printing of my own Defence Against the Dark Arts textbook! That was what I _really _wanted to do, so when Lockhart offered me the job, I had to say yes."

"How did the process work, exactly?" she asked, leaning forward in her seat. If he could tell her some details about how they had doctored names and altered events, she was set!

"Lockhart would come to me whenever he had a story for a new book," Scribersham explained. "He paid me a flat fee for each one. He would provide me with notes of his exploits; they had all the basic outlines of the events, plus any other details he insisted on including. All I did was weave it all together into a coherent story."

Tonks frowned. That didn't sound particularly nefarious. "Was there ever any… _elaboration_, on your part?"

The man blinked confusedly at her. "I'm sorry, I'm not quite sure what you mean."

"Did you ever alter any of the details? Change the names of people or places, for instance?" she prodded hopefully, trying to fight the sinking feeling of disappointment that was crashing over her. It had taken her so long just to find somebody who had some possible insight into Lockhart's deeds – she didn't want to accept that he would be of no help whatsoever!

"No, of course not! I used whatever Lockhart provided me with," he told her, unsure of her line of questioning. "I didn't change a thing – he was very firm about that. Why do you ask?"

She didn't answer the question he directed towards her, as she instead racked her brain for something, _anything_, that would salvage the situation. "Do you happen to still have the notes he gave you?"

"No, I submitted them to the publishers, along with the manuscripts," he said, before one again asking, "Why, Auror Tonks?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose details of the investigation to you, Mr. Scribersham," she told him. Certainly not when he could have played a role; her instincts told her to believe him, but Moody had drilled paranoia well into her head. She would have to go to the publishers and corroborate what he had told her first. And with any luck, maybe they would have those notes that would hopefully give her _something_…

"Please, at least tell me, _did_ I do something wrong?" he fretted, and his glasses nearly slid all way down his nose. "I swear, as far as I knew, Lockhart was just a bloke who couldn't write to save his life! I didn't think we were doing anything _illegal_…"

Tonks sighed. The sad part was, she still didn't conclusively know if they had done anything illegal either.

-x-x-x-

Tonks' next stop was 18A Diagon Alley, to visit Lockhart's publishers. The headquarters of Obscurus books sat on the main street, housed in a whitewashed building with large windows and golden trim. Clearly they did very good business; Tonks wondered just how much of that was due to Lockhart's sales. They undoubtedly wouldn't be eager to help pin fraud charges on one of their most lucrative clients, so she would just have to be sneaky. Taking a bracing breath, she opened the front door and walked inside.

The foyer was spacious, the walls decorated with framed covers of the publishing house's most successful works; as Tonks had expected, Lockhart's covers were the largest, encased in ornate frames. In the middle of the entrance hall there was a desk, with a receptionwitch seated behind it, who was busy scribbling away at some parchment. Tonks walked over and cleared her throat.

"Yes?" the receptionwitch asked in a bored tone, without even glancing up.

"I need to talk with whomever's in charge," Tonks asked in what she hoped was an authoritative voice.

Apparently, it wasn't, as the woman still didn't bother to look up from her work. "I'm sorry, you'll have to make an appointment. The earliest opening is in two months."

Bollocks to that, Tonks thought. Getting out her badge, she waved it in front of the witch's face. "This is official Auror business," she declared firmly. "Again, may I speak to whomever's in charge?"

The badge's authority seemed to impress her; or perhaps it was just that shiny things caught her attention. Whatever it was, the woman's eyes widened and she finally tore herself away from whatever she had been working on. Without another word, she led Tonks through the building and up to the second floor, until they reached a large office. She managed to read the plaque on the door, which was inscribed with _Hermes Penman, Director_, before she was shunted inside and introduced to the boss.

Hermes Penman was a large man with short, curly black hair. He was impeccably dressed, exuding an air of power. Tonks would have hazarded a guess that he and Lockhart would have gotten along quite well, since they both seemed to enjoy the finer things in life; the many bottles of expensive wine on the bar behind the desk and the dozens of awards hanging on the walls certainly reminded her of the other man.

After the sullen receptionwitch had left, Penman shook Tonks' hand and gestured her to a seat. "Now, why exactly is an Auror visiting my publishing house?"

"I'm conducting an investigation," she replied, not wanting to divulge too many details; if she said the wrong thing, she had a feeling the man would clam up quicker than if he'd been hit with a _Silencio_. "I need to look at any files, notes, or manuscripts you have belonging to Gilderoy Lockhart."

"Gilderoy? You're investigating Gilderoy? What on earth for?" the man cried, surprised. When Tonks didn't answer, he pressed his mouth into a firm line and said, "I'm afraid I can't do that. That information is private."

She sighed, and had to admit to being a bit frustrated. The trail had led her this far, and she wasn't about to let it end here! "Look," she pointed out, in what she hoped was a matter-of-fact tone rather than a testy one. "You can either show me the notes now, all quiet-like, or I can go back to the Ministry and make a giant fuss while I get a warrant. And just so you know, the secretaries in the Wizengamot Administration Services are quite the gossipmongers – when I come back, I very well might have the likes of Rita Skeeter buzzing around behind me, and neither of us wants that, right?"

At the mere mention of that pesky woman's name, Penman's eyes grew wide. Tonks could practically see the cogs turning in his mind, thinking of any and all possible ways to avoid that sort of attention. That old axiom of any publicity being good publicity certainly wasn't true when Rita Skeeter was involved, and that seemed to be the conclusion he came to; he reluctantly nodded, and then rose to his feet.

"When you put it that way, I suppose I don't have much of a choice," he noted dourly. "Wait here, please. I'll go have my people fetch all of the Lockhart files."

It took all Tonks had not to burst out into a huge grin; how was that for intimidation! However, she managed to reign in her enthusiasm and simply responded with a professional "Thank you", before sitting back and waiting for the notes to arrive.

-x-x-x-

Tonks' sense of self-satisfaction was no longer with her when she left the publishing house a few hours later. She had tediously sifted through the manuscripts and notes that Obscurus Books had in their possession, but to no avail. It appeared that Webster Scribersham had been telling the truth; everything that appeared in his final manuscripts had been exactly the same as what Lockhart had provided him with. All of the names in his notes were those that she had already determined were fake. So where were the originals?

Another dead end, then. She _still_ had no solid proof that Lockhart had actually committed fraud and taken credit for other people's deeds. All she had was conjecture and coincidence; there was nothing firm that would result in a conviction in front of the Wizengamot, no matter how dodgy the current political climate was.

Fighting hard to suppress a defeated sigh, Tonks shuffled down Diagon Alley. Now what? She didn't want to give up! She didn't want to leave her very first case unsolved, she didn't want to look like a failure in front of the rest of the Auror Office, and – perhaps what she was dreading most of all – she didn't want to go up to Mad-Eye and admit that his faith in her had been misplaced.

She shook her head firmly, trying to dispel the image of his gnarled face frowning in disappointment; but as she did so, a flash of colour caught her eye. Looking to her right, she realized it was the scarlet and gold uniforms of the goblins guarding the entrance to Gringotts Wizarding Bank. She intended to keep on walking, but then froze as a thought suddenly entered her mind.

All this time she had been wondering where Lockhart would hide proof of his secret, and she had overlooked the most obvious option! Gringotts was the safest place in the world to stow anything valuable, and anything that had the potential to bring down Mr. Magical Me's successful career would certainly be labelled as valuable. Could it really be so easy as to simply look in Lockhart's bank vault?

A part of Tonks wanted to grimace at not having thought of this sooner, but a grin soon won out instead. Perhaps she wasn't at a dead end after all!

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**A/N:** If the name 'Obscurus Books' sounds familiar, that's because it's the name of the publishers of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_. And as for the publishing house director's name, I used Hermes, the Greek god of literature, combined with Penman, which should be pretty self-explanatory.

**Next chapter** – Tonks faces a complication in her case, and decides to turn to a certain expert in the subject for help…

As per usual, many thanks to all those who reviewed! But you know, the number of reviewers has been slowly declining... We can't have that, can we? Any little comment is appreciated, even something like 'OMG i luvz remus!1!!' or 'moar pleez!' - and Remus will be sitting in the corner, correcting grammar and writing helpful little comments back to you. ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


	7. Flirting with a Fellow

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 7 – Flirting with a Fellow**

The next day started out much more promisingly for Tonks. She had been able to obtain a warrant without any trouble and quickly made her way to Gringotts. The cart ride through the tunnels was even more of a harrowing experience than usual; when the sharp twists and turns combined with the nerves she was battling over whether or not she would find anything useful, she felt utterly nauseated. It showed in the pea green colour of her hair.

By the time she stood outside Lockhart's vault, she was practically hyperventilating – although she told herself that she was merely taking deep, calming breaths. The goblin accompanying her looked at her like he thought she was insane, but she was alright with that. After one more gasp of air, she nodded to him; he then stroked the door with his long, clawed finger and it dissolved. Bracing herself, Tonks stepped inside.

After having experienced all the sparkly chintziness of his house, the contents of Lockhart's bank vault didn't exactly surprise her. There was gold everywhere, and it wasn't just the heaps of Galleons that lay on the floor; there were also more portraits of him in gilded frames, some antique mirrors, some pieces of regal-looking furniture scattered around, and... Merlin, there were even sculptures of the man!

Trying not to wince at the vast display of riches, Tonks carefully tiptoed over the Galleons and made her way to a cabinet set against the stone wall. Crossing her fingers, she reached out for the handle and pulled open the drawer. When she saw what was inside, she nearly fainted.

Was this it? It _was_! Right there, sitting in front of her, were all the notes she had been searching for! She felt like jumping up and down for joy, and did manage a few hops before noting that the goblin was giving her one of those crazy looks again. Honestly, she no longer cared, because she was on top of the world! At last, after all those dead ends, she had what she needed. She actually began to wonder what had taken her so long – it was almost ridiculously easy to find the notes once she had finally figured out where to look. It actually seemed painfully obvious after the fact; but she decided not to dwell on that too much, for the sake of her sanity (and her pride).

Instead she hopped back into the mine cart with an eager grin on her face, anxious to get back to the Ministry and leaf through everything. The ride back up to the surface was much less nauseating, now that the issue of her nerves had been resolved!

Once back in her cubicle at the Ministry, Tonks began tediously sifting through the pages. Yes, it was more paperwork, but at least now it was accompanied by a sense of satisfaction! Everything seemed to be there; piles of parchment of Lockhart's scribbled accounts detailed the original events as they had actually occurred, and then more pages showed just how he had tweaked them into his own self-aggrandizing tales.

Turning back to the notes she herself had made from his books a few days ago, Tonks began matching the fake names back with their true identities, compiling a list of wizards and witches that would need to have their memories restored. As she worked her way through each of his books, the list of victims grew lengthier; some even resided in quite a few far-flung locations, and she hoped the Obliviators wouldn't mind a bit of extra travel time.

Everything seemed to be progressing smoothly, and soon she reached the list of names from the last book in her pile. But as she picked up a copy of _Wandering with Werewolves_, Tonks froze. Something was nagging at her… As she looked down to peruse the list of Memory Charmed victims, she suddenly realized what was wrong.

Once the other victims were contacted and their memories were restored, they would be perfectly fine. After all, the Bandon banshee _had _been banished, and the gadding ghoul _had_ been defeated, and the troll _had _been evicted from under its bridge, despite the credit for all those deeds being taken by the wrong man. But what about the werewolf? Something about that story simply wasn't sitting right with her.

Skimming back through the book, Tonks quickly reread Lockhart's flowery descriptions of brandishing his wand and valiantly casting the Homorphus Charm, turning the werewolf back into a man and thus saving the village. She then compared that to Lockhart's notes of the original event; they said the exact same thing, albeit with a different hero.

Leaning back in her chair (and then quickly catching herself before she leaned _too_ far back and fell to the floor), Tonks frowned. Her gut was telling her that there was more to the story than that; unfortunately, her knowledge on the Homorphus Charm wasn't up to snuff. Perhaps she could go down to the Werewolf Capture Unit and ask somebody there to take her through its effects? She quickly nixed that idea as she remembered one of the blokes, Hawksley Grosvenor, always kept trying to ask her out whenever he saw her; he bragged non-stop about his dangerous job and his hunting prowess, and she certainly wasn't in the mood for that.

But her thoughts quickly jumped from that unpleasant man to a decidedly more agreeable one. Hadn't Lupin mentioned he was an expert on Dark Creatures? Perhaps she had a reasonable excuse to see him again after all…

-x-x-x-

That afternoon found Tonks back at Hogwarts, standing nervously in front of the door to Remus' office and trying to decide on both what hair colour she should morph and just what she should say. She didn't find any particular inspiration for either dilemma, so she ended up settling for a vibrant magenta before telling herself to bite the bullet and just knock on the bloody door already.

So she did, and was so focused on worrying what to say that she nearly missed him calling for her to come in. Biting her lip, she shoved open the door and with much more aplomb than she actually felt, cheekily greeted, "Wotcher, Professor! Hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Tonks! Not at all," he exclaimed, a grin lighting up his face as he stood (rather eagerly, Tonks couldn't help but note – or was that _hope_?) from his chair. "Please, come in and sit down. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Well, you did ask to stay updated on the case, didn't you?" she asked, a bit worriedly. He had _meant_ it, hadn't he? She had certainly thought so – but then again, it wasn't as if she didn't have an ulterior motive for coming to see him, and she decided to quickly admit to it. "And I'd like to take up your offer of help. Again. If you don't mind, of course!"

If anything, Remus seemed pleased at the request. "Of course I don't mind. Would you care for some tea while we talk?"

"If it's not too much trouble," she acquiesced, and he quickly began bustling around his office, pulling out some cups and teabags.

"Now, don't leave me in suspense," he said, shooting her a mock glare (which was supremely ineffective, what with his eyes twinkling pleasantly) as he filled an old teakettle with a quick _Augumenti_. "How exactly did you crack your case?"

She blinked. "How did you know I cracked it?"

"With a keen investigative mind like yours? It would only be a matter of time," he grinned, waving his hand airily as if to bat away any preposterous possibilities of her _not_ solving it. "Not to mention that you've had a smile on your face ever since you entered the room."

"And how do you know that smile wasn't just because of the pleasure of your company?" she couldn't help but shoot back flirtatiously, before her eyes widened in shock. Had she really said that?

Apparently so, because Remus' eyes widened as well; then a Cheshire cat grin slid onto his face. "Well, I _had_ hoped…"

They stared at each other for a few moments, but the whistling of the kettle suddenly broke the silence. Remus ducked his head down in a manner that seemed almost bashful before seeing to the tea, while Tonks merely boggled at herself. Merlin, as if her schoolgirl crush wasn't enough to worry about – now she was actually regressing back to a teenager!

When he handed her a cup and saucer, she nodded politely and tried to regain some sense of poise in the conversation. How was it that even though she was sitting down, she felt so off-balance? "Well, you were right," she began, clearing her throat and deciding to ignore the last part of their conversation. "I did crack the case. But honestly, I couldn't have done it without your help."

"Of course you would have! I hope you don't mind my saying so, seeing as I hardly know you, but you strike me as extremely tenacious," Remus complimented her, raising his cup up in a little toast. "I doubt you would have let the case get the best of you."

"You might be right about the tenacity," Tonks mused, before snorting slightly. "I think Mad-Eye would call it stubbornness, actually. But still, I'm sure the whole thing would have taken _ages_ if you hadn't pointed me in the direction of the ghostwriter."

"Did you track Scribersham down, then?" he asked, sounding genuinely interested.

"I did," she confirmed, and she launched into a tale of her investigations over the past few days. She couldn't deny her enjoyment at having such a rapt listener; it seemed he had forgotten his tea altogether, since his gaze never left her. She only hoped it didn't sound too much like she was bragging…

But once she had finished, Remus had an extremely impressed look on his face. "You do good work, Tonks. What could possibly be left that you need my help with?"

"Well, it has to do with Dark Creatures, so your name is the first that came to mind," she explained, trying to drown out the shrill voice in her head that called her a liar; as if she needed an excuse for him to pop into her head. She powered on, asking, "Do you know much about werewolves?"

At first Tonks wondered if he had begun to somehow channel her clumsiness, because Remus' teacup suddenly slipped out of his hand. Luckily it was just as he was about to place it down, so it managed to land on the saucer without making too much of a mess. She never had that sort of luck, she lamented, before glancing at him worriedly. His eyes had widened, and his skin had paled slightly, but he quickly cleared his throat and said, "Er, yes, I would say that I know quite a bit about werewolves."

Tonks paused, wondering if she had said something wrong. He seemed to sense her confusion, as he tried his best to smile reassuringly and prompted, albeit somewhat warily, "What is it you wish to know?"

"I need to know about the Homorphus Charm," she said, and it didn't escape her notice that Remus seemed to relax infinitesimally at her question. Had he been expecting her to ask something else? She didn't have the chance to think about it further, because he took a deep breath and quickly launched into his explanation.

"The Homorphus Charm is an emergency measure one can take if confronted with a transformed werewolf. However, it is extremely advanced magic, so most witches and wizards aren't aware of it, let alone able to cast it. It doesn't stop a transformation from occurring – nothing can," he murmured, a far-off look in his eye. "Rather, it forces the wolf to transform briefly back into human form. Those effects are only temporary; it lasts at most a few hours, depending on how powerfully the spell was cast."

"So, it isn't a cure?" she questioned, wanting clarification.

He shook his head firmly. "No. There is no cure for lycanthropy."

Tonks nodded to herself, Lupin's words confirming her hunch. However, then the full implications began to sink in. "Oh no…"

"What's wrong?" he queried tensely, looking quite worried. He had the handle of his teacup in a death grip.

"In most of Lockhart's books, the creatures were defeated by the witches and wizards that he Obliviated," she recalled, leaning forwards in her chair. "But in _Wanderings with Werewolves_, Lockhart Obliviated the wizard who was able to cast the Homorphus Charm – and since it doesn't _cure_ lycanthropy…"

"…That means the werewolf is probably still on the prowl, and the village is likely left without anybody to cast the Charm," Remus finished grimly.

That certainly didn't bode well. Tonks quickly went over the available options in her mind, before slowly proposing, "I think –"

But she was suddenly cut off by the sound of the office door opening behind her.

"Terribly sorry to interrupt," came a familiar oily voice that did not sound apologetic at all. Turning, she saw the dark form of Severus Snape gliding in through the doorway, a goblet in his hand and an imperious expression on his face. "Holding student meetings already, Lupin? I knew you were desperate for a job, but this seems a bit overzealous."

Student meetings? Tonks grit her teeth and was about to issue a retort to her old Potions Professor, but Remus beat her to the punch. She didn't know how he managed it, but he barely blinked as he mildly replied, "Not a student meeting, Severus. I'm consulting with Auror Tonks on an investigation."

The man turned to glance at her for the first time since entering the room, and raised a haughty brow in what she assumed was surprise. "So _Nymphadora_ Tonks was accepted into the Auror program after all? Will wonders never cease," he mused, and she had to wince and sneak a peek in Remus' direction, wondering just what he thought about her first name being revealed. Bugger, she had been hoping to avoid that for as long as possible... Then again, she should have expected it; Snape had always taken perverse pleasure in mentioning it whenever he could.

However, Remus merely kept that same civil smile on his face. "Yes, I believe nobody has been accepted since. Rather impressive, wouldn't you agree?" While Tonks fought a blush, Snape's brow remained raised. Realizing he was in no way going to dignify that with a response, Remus continued, "Now, is there something I can help you with, Severus?"

"Doubtful," he sneered disdainfully, placing the goblet he held down onto Lupin's desk. "I'm merely dropping off today's dose of potion."

"Ah, thank you, Severus," Remus replied, ever so politely, although from the strained look around his eyes and mouth, Tonks had a hunch that he was exceedingly uncomfortable. She couldn't blame him – the potion was smouldering faintly, sending wisps of smoke swirling up into the air, and when she angled herself ever so slightly to take a better peek inside the goblet, she saw its unpleasant puce colour. She could already smell its acrid aroma, which oddly enough reminded her of a combination of burning rubber and celery; it definitely didn't seem very appetizing, whatever it was, so she didn't think Remus owed the Potions Master _too_ much thanks.

Apparently neither did he, for Snape merely turned without another word and swept from the room. She watched him go, vaguely wondering how he got his robes to billow so impressively (she always managed to trip over them instead). Turning back to Remus, who was already gulping down the potion, she stuttered, "Um, well, that was…"

"Bracing?" Remus suggested after he set down the now-empty (but still smoking) goblet, and contorted his face in disgust.

He seemed slightly paler than he had been earlier, and all of a sudden that fact seemed to align with his earlier tenseness and discomfort. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" Tonks blurted out in apology, jumping to her feet. "I didn't mean to bother you while you were ill! You should have said something, I could have come back at another time, and –"

"Nonsense, I'm feeling perfectly fine now," he cut her off firmly, gesturing for her to retake her seat. She did so uncertainly, but he sent her a reassuring smile. "This was just a new potion Snape brewed for me, to see if prevents me from feeling… under the weather, you might say. It's the first time we've tried it, so I'm hoping it will be successful – but I must say, the taste leaves something to be desired."

"If you're sure…"

"I absolutely insist," he said, his voice serious, before the twinkle returned to his eyes and he slyly added, "…Nymphadora."

She gasped, before burying her face in her hands. "Oh, bloody hell. I was hoping you might not have heard that part."

"No such luck," Remus all but gloated. "I have to admit, I'm rather baffled at you wanting to hide a name like that; it's quite lovely."

Tonks quickly removed her head from her hands, if only so she could ensure the man saw her jaw drop. "Lovely? Did that potion seep into your brain or something? It's completely ridiculous!"

"I think it suits you," he countered calmly.

"_I_ think if you keep on using it, I shall have to hex you," she gritted out. All her earlier worries about making a good impression on him had apparently gone out the window, since threats had definitely not been part of her plan; then again, those plans hadn't included Remus being a teasing _git _either.

"Very well, I'll strike you a deal – why don't we forget that entire exchange? You stop worrying about me being sick, and I'll not mention your name," he offered smugly.

She didn't even have to think about it. "Deal!" she cried, thrusting her hand forward to shake on it.

"A deal, then," Remus smiled, and he held onto her hand perhaps a bit longer than was necessary before leaning back in his chair and nonchalantly continuing, "So. Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted by that conversation that never happened? Ah yes, the village."

"I think I should go to Armenia and investigate," Tonks said, voicing the thought she'd had earlier, before Snape had so rudely interrupted. "I can talk to the Obliviated wizard and see if the werewolf is still around, or if with any luck he managed to relearn the Charm… I'd feel a lot better about this if I knew the village was safe."

"That's very kind of you. But _I'd_ feel better if you didn't go alone," Remus frowned.

Tonks thought she ought to feel annoyed at that, like she usually did when men in the department questioned her abilities; however, in Remus' eyes she saw genuine concern instead of a lack of faith. "Are you trying to invite yourself along, Professor?" she asked, mock-sternly, waging a poor war against the warm, fuzzy feelings that began to erupt inside of her.

"That would be incredibly rude of me, Auror Tonks!" he gasped overdramatically. "I wouldn't want to go where I'm not wanted."

"I never said you wouldn't be wanted," she pointed out playfully, but sincerely. Then she rolled her eyes as she thought of the alternative. "I'd much prefer your company over one of the blokes from the Werewolf Capture Unit; they're somewhat lacking in the sensitivity department."

Remus sighed, suddenly shifting to a more serious tone. "Sensitivity is somewhat superfluous when faced with a werewolf; they're dangerous creatures when transformed."

Tonks blinked, once again a bit worried at his mercurial change in moods today. Was it something she had said? She quickly tried to explain. "Yes, I know that… But werewolves are just regular people when they're not transformed, and I don't think the Capture squad realizes that," she complained, narrowing her eyes in frustration as she thought of some of the vile comments she'd overheard from the Unit.

When Remus didn't reply, she looked back to him, only to find him staring at her intently. She couldn't help but raise a brow. "What is it?" Did she have something on her face?

"You are something else, Tonks," he said simply.

Her mouth opened and worked up and down, but nothing quite managed to come out. What did one say to something like that? Was that a _good_ thing? All she could do was awkwardly stutter, "Er, so… What day is good for you? Do you think we should go during the full moon? That might make it easier to track down the wolf, if it's still running around."

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he frowned, his face clouding over once more. "I… I'm indisposed that night, unfortunately."

Tonks winced. Had she said something wrong again? Was he trying to make an excuse not to go with her after all? "Oh, I'm sorry," she blurted out, embarrassedly trying to salvage what was left of her dignity. "You know, you really don't have to come with me if you don't want to. I'm sure you have lots of work to do, and I can handle it myself, and –"

"I do have lots of work to do, but I was actually planning to travel to Eastern Europe and tracking down a Pogrebin for my third years, so it's really no trouble at all. It would be nice to have some company," Remus added earnestly. "Would tomorrow work for you?"

She didn't even stop to think about it. "It's a date!"

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**A/N:** A few things to clarify here! First, another fun bit of etymological trivia with regards to the Werewolf Capturer – the last name Grosvenor comes from an English surname that means "great hunter" in Norman French. As for the Hawksley part… Well, I was listening to the song 'Jealous of Your Cigarette' by Hawksley Workman, and I just really liked the name. ;)

Now, on a more canonical note… With regards to the Homorphus Charm, we weren't given many details at all about it in the books. It seems to imply the ability to transform a werewolf back into a human, but since we know there's no actual _cure_ for lycanthropy, I'm going to say that its effects are only temporary. Also, in _the Chamber of Secrets_, Lockhart mentions his defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf, but later he mentions that an Armenian wizard defeated the werewolf. Wagga Wagga is a city in Australia, not Armenia – but I'm going to use Armenia for the purpose of my plot. I can do that, you know, being the author – what a power trip!

**Next chapter** – Tonks goes on a field trip with our favourite Professor…

Many, many thanks to all my reviewers! Ooh, the number of comments increased – looks like my begging had an effect on you, eh? Excellent. Well, what do you say to leaving the 100 review mark well in the dust this time around? It'll only take mere moments for you to leave a few words, and in return, Remus might reward you with a gold star or two… ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


	8. Trip with a Teacher

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 8 – Trip with a Teacher**

When Tonks arrived at Hogwarts the next day, it was shortly after noon. She had hoped to be there earlier than that; her eagerness shone through when she tripped about a dozen times on her hurried way up the castle's many staircases (approximately half the stumbles had been over her own feet and half over her Auror robes, plus once over Mrs. Norris for good measure).

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming," Remus said good-naturedly as he opened the door to his office for her. "I'm not sure I would have been able to take the disappointment."

She probably couldn't have taken it either, if she were honest with herself. Glancing over his lanky frame, she took in his gray slacks and navy blue jumper, with the collar of a white Oxford peeking out along the neckline. Merely a week ago, Tonks never would have thought that such an ensemble would appeal to her as much as a dragonhide jacket and a few tattoos, but now she couldn't deny how much she was looking forward to spending the day with one Professor Remus J. Lupin. For purely professional purposes, of course!

Yes, professionalism was key; after all, there was still technically an investigation in the works. And yet, she couldn't stop herself from indulging in some slight flirtation. "Well, then we're lucky I made it, aren't we?" she grinned in return, flattered once again by his words. "I'm sorry I'm late – it took me a while to get the Auror Department to approve this little trip."

"No troubles, I hope?" he asked in concern.

"No, not really. Just the wheels of bureaucracy turning slowly, as usual. The entire Ministry is so busy with the Black fiasco that nobody really cares where a lowly Auror trainee sojourns off to," she chuckled wryly, shrugging her shoulders.

"Ah. I see," he murmured quietly, an awkward look suddenly crossing his face.

Bugger, had she said something wrong again? Then her mind flashed back to when she had noticed Remus' name amongst Kingley's files for the Black investigation, and realized that mentioning the other man's name probably made him uncomfortable. Well, that was a fabulous way to start their day together, wasn't it?

She quickly tried to distract him from her little blunder. "Er, anyway, I have the Portkey," Tonks quickly added. Reaching into the pocket of her robes, she pulled out an old soap dish, placed it on the desk, and tapped it with her wand to activate it. "Ready to go?"

Remus' brief moment of concern seemed to be gone now. He grabbed his cloak from where it lay draped over his chair, and moved beside her, beaming. "Absolutely."

-x-x-x-

The inhabitants of the small wizarding village of Medovka had eyed Remus and Tonks cautiously when they began walking down the worn dirt path that acted as the village's main street. Medovka was isolated, tucked away in the mountains of northern Armenia, so Tonks could understand their wariness; odd, foreign visitors probably didn't pop up out of the blue too often. However, their hospitality won out, and a middle-aged woman tending her garden was quick to walk up and ask if they needed help. At least, Tonks assumed that was what she had asked; her knowledge of the Armenian language was rather non-existent.

"We're looking for Abaven Vartanian," she enunciated carefully, reading the name off from Lockhart's notes and hoping she wasn't mutilating the pronunciation too badly.

Apparently the woman got the message, for her helpful smile was instantly wiped from her face. "Abaven?" she repeated incredulously, before glowering. She raised an arm and pointed, almost accusingly, down to the end of the path, where a small shack could be seen beyond the other cottages. Then she spun around and stormed into her own house without another word.

Tonks turned towards Remus with a baffled expression on her face. "Was it something I said?"

"Perhaps the fellow we're looking for isn't very popular around here," he mused, a bit worriedly. "Shall we go find out why?"

The pair quickly made their way over to the man's house, which, although approximately the same size as the rest of the homes in the village, looked much more dilapidated. It had the appearance of a once neat house gone to seed, as if simply left to rot. The front garden was filled with weeds and tall grasses, all growing wild and overflowing onto the path; Tonks tripped over two roots on the way to the front door, both times being gently caught by Remus (and she told herself that her racing heart was from the near falls, and not from his hands on her). He didn't seem to mind her clumsiness one bit, merely smiling at her when they reached the front door.

He knocked firmly. They heard a shuffling sound coming from inside, before the door was slowly opened. A tall man stood there, with long, dishevelled black hair; it was streaked liberally with grey, and much like the front lawn, it did not appear to have been cut for quite some time. That, along with his worn face, wrinkled robes, and weary stature, gave the impression he had stopped taking care of himself. According to Tonks' file, the man was in his mid-forties, but he looked at least fifteen years older than that.

He also seemed to be eyeing them rather suspiciously, so Tonks summoned a non-threatening smile and politely asked, "Are you Abaven Vartanian?"

"Yes, I am Abaven," he answered cautiously, in a heavy accent. She thanked her lucky starts that he understood English, since her Translating Charms were always a bit suspect. The last time she had used one, there had been a rather humiliating misunderstanding about canaries that Kingsley _still_ hadn't stopped teasing her about.

"I'm Auror Tonks," she introduced herself, and then gestured to her companion. "And this is Remus Lupin. We're here on behalf of the British Ministry of Magic. May we talk to you?"

"Yes, of course," the man acquiesced after a moment's surprise. He opened the door wider and beckoned them in with one hand. "Come inside."

His house was messier than Tonks' flat had ever been, which she found almost impressive. The walls were all covered with large shelves, each of them filled with countless vials and bottles. The large table in the middle of the room was filled with various ingredients, knives, and even more bottles. Bundles of herbs hung from the rafters, and a smoking cauldron sat in the hearth, suspended over smouldering coals.

Vartanian didn't offer them a seat, but she wasn't offended; there weren't actually any chairs in the room, as there was barely enough room to walk around in the first place. She clutched her Auror robes closer to her body, nervously hoping they wouldn't catch on anything and send the many breakable objects around her crashing to the floor.

"You have come a long vay to talk to me, and I do not know vhy," he pointed out, moving to the table and starting to stir the contents of a bowl with one hand.

"I was hoping you could tell us what you know about werewolves, and the Homorphus Charm," Tonks told him, seeing no need to beat around the bush.

Perhaps she should have been more subtle, she then reflected, for Abaven abruptly dropped the ladle he held and stared at her in shock. "Werewolves? No, no, I know nothing! I cannot tell you about wolves."

"Mr. Vartanian, please!" Remus jumped in, trying to placate the man with his calm, soothing voice. "There's no need to be frightened. I assure you, we're not here to cause you any trouble – we only wish to help."

"Help vith vhat?"

"We know there used to be a werewolf here, and that you used to help keep the village safe – and we also know that something went wrong," Tonks said gently, in a non-accusing manner. "We came to see if there was still any danger, and if we could do something to put things right."

Vartanian stared at her for a long moment, weighing her words before frowning. "You seem to know more than even I remember. How can that be?"

"What exactly _do_ you remember?" she wondered. Just what memories did Lockhart alter?

"You vill swear to me that you do not vant to hurt the werewolf?" he asked first, fearfully. "That ve are not in danger?"

"I swear it, Mr. Vartanian. We only want to help," Tonks promised him, and beside her Remus nodded firmly in agreement.

Abaven sighed heavily, before admitting, "The wolf is my younger brother – Rudolf. He vas bitten one night, in the mountains, I think. It is hard to remember..." He paused, a painful expression crossing his face as he tried to recall the incident. "It vas not his fault, but the rest of the village, they did not vish him to be here anymore! I did not vant to send my brother avay, so I searched for a vay to make him safe."

"And you found the Homorphus Charm?" Remus guessed, gently prompting the man's story along.

"Is that vhat it vas called? I only know vhat my neighbours told me - that on the full moons I vould use it and Rudolf vould change back to a man. It vould not last long, but I vould stay awake the whole night and keep changing him. Vhen the village saw that Rudolf vould not harm them, they came to accept him."

"That was very brave of you," Remus noted, in what Tonks thought was almost a wistful tone of voice.

"It vas not bravery," Vartanian denied, standing up taller. "It vas love. I love my brother, I had to help him."

His declaration was so vehement that it was clear he had never considered any option other than supporting his brother. It made Tonks' heart clench a bit – first in admiration, but then in pain, for she realized that things obviously hadn't ended well. "But something happened?"

"Yes, but I do not know vhat. I try and I try, but I cannot remember!" Vartanian cried in frustration, pounding a fist on the table in front of him. "The spell must have failed, for the morning after the moon I avoke Rudolf and vas gone, and my arm vas in pieces." He used his right hand to gesture to his left arm, which lay limply at his side. Tonks suddenly realized that throughout their conversation, he had only ever used his right arm; his left must have been useless.

"Were you bitten?" Remus asked him worriedly, yet in a very calm manner.

"No, I vas very lucky; but Rudolf vould not listen," Abaven grimaced. "When he came to me after, and saw vhat he had done and that he could not be kept safe anymore, he left to keep the village safe. I told him to stay, but I could not cast the Charm anymore. I do not know how, but it vas as if it disappeared from my mind!" At those words, Remus and Tonks exchanged a glance, knowing full well what it meant. The other man didn't seem to notice, preoccupied with his guilt. "I failed my brother that night… Since he has left I have been trying to find a different vay to help him – but until I can, Rudolf vill not return."

Waving his good arm around the room, he gestured to the many bottles and cauldrons that littered the space. "All this is for a new potion, called Wolfsbane. It is said to help, but it is very difficult. I try and I try, but I cannot make it yet."

Tonks frowned, sympathetic. The mess around the cottage and Abaven's dishevelled appearance made much more sense now; clearly the poor man was spending every single moment and every single cent he had working on that potion. One eggplant-coloured attempt sat on the corner of the table, steaming slightly. Even more were laid out beside it, ranging in colours from that of ash to that of a lilac. The mixture of aromas was rather varied as well; she could have sworn that one instant she had gotten whiff of burning hair, and then of celery (or was that just the man's dinner?).

While she was observing all the potions around her, Remus didn't move. When she turned back to him, she noticed him standing rather stiffly, as if quite tense. However, his words were as warm and caring as ever, as he earnestly said, "I'm very sorry to hear that. Your brother sounds like a very good man, leaving to try and keep people safe – I can imagine how difficult it would be, to live in fear of hurting those you love."

Tonks couldn't help but nod vigorously in agreement, and tried to offer what comfort she could. "Mr. Varatian, you didn't fail your brother – what happened wasn't your fault!" He opened his mouth, seemingly about to protest, but she quickly continued, hoping to clarify. "I've been investigating a man named Gilderoy Lockhart. He performed Memory Charms on people, and then took credit for their actions. That's what happened to you; he erased your memory of how to do the Homorphus Charm, and then said _he_ was the one who saved the village from a werewolf."

Her explanation had seemingly stunned the man. He stared wide-eyed at her for a few moments, before hoarsely stuttering, "He… He did this to me? It vas not my fault?"

"No, not at all," she insisted firmly, reaching across the table to clasp his good had supportively (and managed to do so without knocking anything over). "But better yet, it can be reversed! I'll send Obliviators to you right away, and they can lift the Charm and restore your memories. I promise that you'll be able to cast the Homorphus Charm again before the next full moon. You'll be able to bring your brother home."

-x-x-x-

The look on Abaven Vartanian's face, one of wonder and hope, had been absolutely priceless. It had lifted Tonks' spirits like nothing else had, and made all the trouble she had been through over the past few days one hundred percent worth it.

"You made him a very happy man, Tonks," Remus commented fondly as they bid him farewell and made their way back through the overgrown jungle that was Abaven's front garden. "I hope you feel very proud of yourself."

"I do," she had to admit, but couldn't manage to sound too pleased. "But I can't help but feel a bit disappointed at the same time."

"Disappointed?" Remus echoed curiously. "With what?"

"With… With… With how what we've found out doesn't seem to _change _anything!" Tonks blurted out, her frustrations finally bursting from behind the wall where she had tried her best to stuff them. "I just wish Lockhart could see all the trouble and pain he's caused! I mean, here was a werewolf who was able to stay safe, and had the acceptance of his family and his friends – do you have any idea how rare that is?"

"I do, yes," her companion murmured knowingly.

She didn't notice the simultaneously wistful and pained expression on his face as she threw her arms up and continued to rant. "And Lockhart had to go ruin it all! Even worse, he didn't even do a very good job _Obliviating_ Abaven – that poor man could still remember his brother's pain, and he had to live with the guilt? That's almost worse than not remembering anything at all." Tonks paused to inhale sharply, but she was nowhere near done. "When I think about that, not to mention all the other deeds he ripped off… He got to play the hero and reap the rewards, and now what will happen to him? Nothing! I wish he could hear about all this and be punished somehow, but it would be meaningless because he doesn't even remember who he is or what he's done! How is that justice?"

Remus sighed heavily, before laying a comforting hand on her arm. "I believe this may be a cliché," he noted dryly, "But all too often life isn't fair."

"Gee, that's reassuring," she said sarcastically. "Thanks, Remus."

"Oh, I'm not done yet," he chuckled. "I feel it's my duty to point out to you that you're wrong about not changing anything. For one thing, I'd bet every chocolate bar in Honeydukes that Mr. Vartanian's life will now change for the better; as will all the other victims, once they have their memories restored. It may not be justice in the traditional legal sense, but perhaps it's even more important."

Tonks stopped in her tracks as she considered his words. He was right, wasn't he? Maybe her views on justice were too narrow. The villain wouldn't always be captured, tried, and sentenced to Azkaban; the heroes wouldn't always live happily ever after and ride off into the sunset on a gleaming white Hippogriff. Lockhart might never again remember who he was or what he had done, but wasn't that punishment in and of itself? And the fact that Abaven Vartanian and all the other victims of his Memory Charms could be helped certainly made his fate a bit easier to swallow.

As she mulled all that over, she slowly nodded her head. "You're right, Remus. Those are some very wise words."

"Well, I try," he smiled. "And if it's any consolation, the fact that you believe in and fight for justice is impressive. The Ministry needs people as passionate as you; I have no doubts that will make you a fabulous Auror."

"Thank you," she said quietly, quickly looking away from him as she began to blush. "That means a lot."

"You're very welcome," he replied, perfectly polite, but Tonks could hear the tone of amusement infused in his voice. Yes, she was sure he was _very_ amused by her continual embarrassment.

A brief silence followed his comment, and she wracked her brain to find something to fill it. Glancing up to the sky, as if somehow the words would be written there for her, she was surprised to find that the sun was moving closer and closer to the horizon.

"It's getting late," she noted, disappointedly. The day had passed all too quickly (although perhaps travelling across a number of time zones had something to do with that); she had been somewhat selfishly hoping they would be able to spend more time together. And then she remembered what other purpose their little sojourn was to have served, and she cried, "Oh, I'm sorry, it doesn't look like we'll have time to find you a Pogrebin!"

"That's perfectly all right; what we accomplished here today was much more important," Remus replied, unflappable as always. Tonks began to wonder if there would ever be an occasion where he _wasn't_ cool and collected. That was quite the opposite of her, as was demonstrated when her heart started to beat a bit faster as he asked, "Would you like to come back to my office for a congratulatory cup of tea? Or perhaps we can even dip into Lockhart's hidden stash of Firewhisky."

She grinned excitedly, forgetting all about being demure. "I'd love to!"

The soap dish was out of her pocket in a second, and quickly activated once more. The pair Portkeyed back to the gates of Hogwarts, and then made their way to Remus' office. He chivalrously opened the door and politely ushered her inside, but when an acrid aroma wafted towards her, she stopped in her tracks. There, on the desk, was another smoking goblet of the potion Snape had dropped off the day before.

"Ah, excuse me, I'll just take this dose of potion first…" he said, albeit somewhat awkwardly. He walked over and downed the potion as quickly as he could, grimacing as it poured down his throat.

Tonks watched him closely as he drank it, a slight frown on her face. She could have sworn she had caught a whiff of celery, just like in Vartanian's cottage. Surely it couldn't be… No, no, that was silly, she told herself. All this recent talk of werewolves was making her see them in places they weren't!

Insistently banishing that ludicrous thought from her mind, she asked Remus, "Is the potion working, at least? You look a bit more tired than you did before, actually. Er, not that you don't look… um, good, that is." She blushed again at the words that stumbled from her lips. Why did she even bother opening her mouth in the first place, she wondered exasperatedly.

Luckily Remus' composure appeared to be back, and he merely smiled. "The intended effects remain to be seen, actually – but Severus' brewing abilities are beyond compare. I'm sure it will do the job."

"Good. Me too," she agreed, deciding to have a bit of faith. She knew that her frankness and curiosity occasionally crossed the line into rudeness, and the last thing she wanted to do was cause Remus embarrassment by prying into his health problems. He would be just fine, she told herself, and that was that. He then broke out the Firewhisky and the pair began to chat, and Tonks had no more thoughts of mysterious potions for the rest of their rather enjoyable evening.

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**A/N:** More character naming fun! I searched some Armenian name websites to come up with the names of the poor werewolf and his brother. Abaven means 'protector', while Rudolf is from the German for 'red wolf'. Vartanian is derived from the Persian word for 'shield', which I thought fit rather nicely with the theme of Abaven trying to protect his brother from the villagers, and the villagers from his brother.

**Next chapter** – Tonks may have cracked the Lockhart case, but there's still another mystery to solve…

Many, many thanks to all those who reviewed last chapter! We passed the 100 review mark with gusto, which is just dandy. And I think I've noticed a pattern I've dubbed 'the Remus Effect' – there are more reviews for chapters where Remus plays a prominent role! Shall we put the Remus Effect to the test, then? There was Remus abound in this chapter, so please leave a few comments and tell me what you thought! ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


	9. Revelations with Remus

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 9 – Revelations with Remus**

Back in her cubicle at the Ministry the next day, Tonks was once again surrounded by paperwork. It felt a bit odd to be buried in pieces of parchment after having spent the past few days out in the field, but it didn't seem as tedious as it had before. It certainly helped that rather than poring over files that meant virtually nothing to her, she was instead describing the details of her very own investigation.

She took her time filling out her reports, detailing everything – from what she had found in Lockhart's books, to what had turned up in the searches of his places of residence, to what had been revealed during her various interviews. She didn't have the power or authority to actually pass judgement over Lockhart – that rested with the Wizengamot – but, as the chief investigator on the case, she was able to at least give recommendations for sentencing. Tonks thought back to what Remus had told her yesterday – that justice would be helping the victims of Lockhart's schemes, no matter if the perpetrator himself had, in an untraditional way, circumvented the legal process.

She had mulled over his wise words for some time, and although it rankled a bit, she realized that she had been seeing the situation as very much black and white. That bothered her; she considered herself to very liberal and open-minded. Maybe it had to do with the constant metamorphing and colour-changing, but she was _never_ just black and white! She would have to try much harder to apply that means of thinking to her duties – it wouldn't do to be constantly pouting whenever a suspect got the better of the Auror Department. There would be wins and there would be losses, Tonks told herself; and instead of counting this one as a loss, she was starting to come around to considering it a win. Gilderoy Lockhart _had _been punished – not by the Wizengamot, but rather by himself. Perhaps the Janus Thickey ward wasn't exactly the equivalent of a cell in Azkaban, but the man would most likely spend the rest of his life there, never truly knowing who he was. That was a severe sentence in its own right.

In the meantime, justice could be carried out in another sense. In her recommendations, Tonks suggested that the proceeds of Lockhart's royalty cheques be divvied up and paid out to all of his victims, as a form of restitution for their mental anguish. She hoped the Wizengamot would listen; it seemed only right that the profits from the tales of heroic deeds actually went to those who had performed them in the first place.

But of course, having their memories restored was the most important thing. After writing up a copious report on the victims, she had sent it off straight away to the Obliviators; all the victims would hopefully have their memories back within the next day or so. She had deemed Abaven Vartanian a priority and placed him on the top of the list, and made a note to herself to perhaps check on him in a few days' time. Maybe she could even offer to help him track down Rudolf, if he ended up needing assistance with finding his brother.

A few more i's were dotted and t's crossed, and then, when she added the final touch of her loopy signature to the bottom of the report, Tonks found herself rather stunned. She was done. Her very first investigation was now complete! She stifled an excited giggle, and instead grabbed the report and made her way out of her cubicle (catching her elbow on the doorway in her haste).

She virtually skipped towards Mad-Eye's desk, and then dropped the stack of parchment in front of him with a flourish. "Ta-da!" she cried, grinning.

"You're in a good mood," he observed, suspiciously raising a bushy eyebrow in her direction.

"You might say I'm tickled pink," she winked, changing her usual spiky hairdo from midnight blue to a shade of bubblegum, before telling him proudly, "I've just wrapped up the Lockhart investigation!"

That got his attention, and both his real eye and his magical one fixed on her. "You don't say!"

She grinned and nodded towards the papers she had deposited in front of him. "It's all in there."

He opened up the folder and began to skim over it; every so often his magical eye would swivel away from the parchment and look her over appraisingly, before returning to the report. The only sound that came from him was the occasional "Hmm" and "Ah", which really didn't reveal much to her. In fact, it made her somewhat nervous.

"So… what do you think?" Her earlier excitement had now become an odd sort of tenseness. Despite all her teasing (which really, was good for him, since it kept him on his toes), Tonks respected Moody a great deal, and was always eager for his approval. She very much hoped that her work on the case was to his liking.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, Moody put the papers down and swivelled his chair around to face her. "Well done, lass, well done. I have to say I'm impressed," he admitted, but then narrowed his eyes shrewdly. "How do _you _feel about it?"

She blinked, not expecting that question; of course, she should have, since the old codger always did enjoy catching her off guard. She had to think about the answer for a few seconds, before cautiously replying. "To be honest, I think I could have done a better job. Searching Lockhart's home and office seemed like such a waste of time – I wish I'd thought of checking Gringott's first."

To her surprise, Mad-Eye merely nodded appreciatively. "Good girl! I'm glad you can admit your faults. A pigheaded Auror is of no use to anyone – if you can't admit your mistakes then you can't learn from them!"

"Oh, I'm sure I made plenty of mistakes," she murmured, ducking her head a bit.

"But in the end, you wrapped up the case. And you asked for help when you needed it," he commended, knocking his walking staff onto the floor in approval. Then he actually laughed. "I can't believe you consulted Remus Lupin on werewolves! You always did have a way of getting information from people."

"What? What's odd about that?" Tonks asked, bewildered. Why _wouldn't_ Remus have told her what he knew about the subject? "He told me he was a Dark Creature expert."

"Aye, that's one way to put it," Moody chortled, until he finally realized that Tonks was not in on the joke. He sighed and grumbled, "Oh, never you mind then, it just amuses me."

"Hmph. I thought amusements got in the way of 'constant vigilance'," she muttered sullenly. She simply hated being out of the loop on things, and Mad-Eye's reaction to Remus had made her curiosity about the good professor resurface once again (not that it had ever truly gone away). Oh, what wasn't he telling her? She knew it was _something_ important, what with the Secrecy Sensor on his desk going off, which made Moody scowl and cast a Silencing Charm on it.

Well, whatever it was, it seemed clear that he wouldn't reveal it. Instead Moody handed the folder to her and said, "Good to know that everything I tell you doesn't go in one ear and out the other. I'll see if I can find another case to throw your way."

That was his gruff way of telling her that he was proud of her, so she took back the case file and smiled. "Thanks, Mad-Eye." She definitely owed him one, and began to wonder what sort of thank-you gift she could give him that he wouldn't automatically blast to bits because of his paranoia…

Her next stop was to the tenth floor of the Ministry, to drop off a copy of her report to Wizengamot Administration Services. Once she handed over the file, that was it – the case was officially closed. She had to admit, the feeling of satisfaction she got from that was wonderful. She couldn't wait to crack another one!

But once again she was getting ahead of herself, she thought as she entered the lift and began the ride back to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Tonks tried to imagine what sort of case she would get next, trying not to get too fanciful, like last time. In the midst of her wondering, the lift's cool voice broke through her haze and announced, "_Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, including the __Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures, the Goblin Liaison Office, and Werewolf Support Services__."_

Tonks started, reminded of Mad-Eye's inexplicable sense of amusement earlier. What was it about Remus Lupin and werewolves that he had found so funny? Oh, wonderful, now she was back to obsessively wondering about Remus again… Well, there was clearly only one way to get that out of her system!

-x-x-x-

It was with a great deal more than her usual bundle of nerves that she knocked on the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts office later that afternoon. After some soul-searching and an hour spent giving herself a pep talk, she knew what she had come to say and she was determined to get it out – but she had absolutely no clue as to how Remus would respond. To be perfectly honest, the very thought terrified her. She was an Auror for Merlin's sake, she scolded herself; luckily seeing Remus' delighted smile when he opened the door calmed her down somewhat.

"Tonks! What a pleasant surprise. Please, come in," he greeted her, ushering her inside with his usual politeness.

She thanked him, but then worriedly looked him over with a closer eye. "You're looking a bit peaky again – are you quite alright?"

He chuckled somewhat uncomfortably, before waving a dismissive hand and joking, "This is just me recovering from trying to drink you under the table last night."

"Ah," she said, choosing to accept his words, even though she doubted that the few shots of Firewhisky they'd shared the night before could be the cause for how pale and tired he currently looked. She certainly didn't want to call him on it, when what she was about to say him already made her feel awkward enough!

She wanted to get it over with, before she lost her nerve. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself before she finally made herself ask, "Do you think you've recovered enough to maybe… go out with me tonight?"

Remus' eyes widened in what she at first thought was pleasant surprise, but then they instantly looked pained. "Tonks, believe me when I say I would _love_ to, but… I unfortunately already have plans," he muttered, his vague excuse coming out rather dispiritedly.

She couldn't help but feel like her insides had just plummeted all the way down to the dungeons. "Oh. I see. Er, forget I asked, then."

"I don't _want_ to forget you asked!" he quickly tried to reassure her, his voice firm but lacking its usual composure. "I wish I could say yes, more than anything, but the timing… It really can't be helped. Perhaps another night? _Any_ other night?"

Tonks took another bracing breath and forced herself to meet his eyes before quietly wondering, "Any night other than the full moon, you mean?"

Her question was met with a shocked silence. Remus dropped down in his chair, stunned at her words. She was too; she could scarcely believe she had asked him like that!

She instantly regretted how she had approached this all, and wanted to apologize for being so… so cavalier and insensitive about it, but Remus reacted first. "You've sussed me, then," he said, somewhat dejectedly, releasing a long, tense sigh. "I should have known it would only be a matter of time."

"You're giving me too much credit again, Remus," she scoffed, shaking her head. "I really wasn't too quick with putting the pieces together."

"Would you mind terribly if I asked how you figured it out?" he asked, in a tone that seemed very professional – almost detached.

"Not at all," Tonks said slowly, a bit surprised that this was the direction he was taking things – but then figured it was only natural to want to learn how somebody's deepest secret was revealed. "I wondered about how you'd sometimes get a bit uncomfortable – like when I came to ask you about the Homorphus Charm, or when Snape dropped off that potion for you. I thought it might have just been because of me and my occasional bouts of word-vomit... But then when we went to see Mr. Vartanian and the potions he was brewing reminded me of yours, I got more curious. Mad-Eye making cracks about you being a werewolf expert just about pushed me over the edge, since I knew he wasn't telling me something about you."

"Did that bother you? Not knowing things about me?" he questioned, with an odd expression on his face that she couldn't place.

"Yes, actually. Ever since we met, I've wanted to know more about you," she admitted sheepishly, and quickly decided to spare them both the embarrassment of telling him just how much she had been constantly thinking (or was a better term 'obsessing'?) about him. "And my curiosity led me to Werewolf Support Services this afternoon, since I figured if you were such an expert, they'd know you there."

"Oh, they do indeed know me there," Remus laughed shortly, without an ounce of humour.

Tonks frowned, but continued, unable to deny her inquisitiveness now that things finally seemed to be out in the open. "I really wasn't expecting you to be listed in the Registry, but looking back, it all makes sense now. You were uncomfortable when I asked you about werewolves because you thought I suspected you? And the potion Snape brewed for you was Wolfsbane?"

"Yes, on both counts," he nodded. "When I took the post as professor here, one of the safety measures Dumbledore instituted was having Severus prepare the potion for me. This month's regimen is the first we've tried; needless to say, I hope it will be effective." He turned his head away from her, a far-off look taking over his eyes for a moment. A few seconds later, he turned back and added, "And yes, when you asked me about the Homorphus Charm that day, I nearly had a heart attack! I have to admit, it took me a while to determine if you were purposely asking me those things in order to prove your suspicions."

"I never really had any suspicions. Until today, at least," she amended, feeling somewhat silly. It was just like the Lockhart case, now that she thought about it, with the answers she was searching so hard for actually staring her right in the face. "Like I said, you give me too much credit – if I hadn't popped by Werewolf Support Services this afternoon on a whim, I probably never would have found out. Sort of an accident, really." Not to mention pretty pathetic, Tonks thought to herself. As an Auror, shouldn't she have noticed all the signs much sooner? She was amazingly slow on the uptake at times…

Remus didn't appear to be thinking along those lines, however. With a subdued expression, he cautiously asked, "Then… Was the only reason you asked me out tonight to see if I would admit to it?"

Tonks had to restrain herself from gasping, and not giving in to wishful thinking – at least, not entirely. Was he truly worried about the motivations behind asking him out? At that thought, her nerves returned in full force and she struggled to coolly reply, "Honestly, I was hoping you wouldn't be a werewolf, so we could go out tonight…"

"Oh, I see," Remus quietly interrupted with a disappointed sigh, and she could have slapped herself, realizing he must have been thinking that the werewolf aspect had scared her off. Merlin's pants, she was bungling this badly!

She quickly continued, "But maybe we can try it on a less moonlit night instead? That whole notion of moonlight being romantic is overrated, you know."

Immediately after her words were spoken, Tonks wanted to wince. If only she had a Time-Turner so she could take them back! She had _wanted_ to spell it out for him, clear as day, and say that she didn't _care_ he was a werewolf – it made absolutely no bloody difference to her. Sure, it had been a slight shock when she had finally figured it out, but she quickly realized that it didn't detract from his kindness, or his handsomeness, or his intellect, or his compassion. But _noooo_, instead she had tried to be all coy and flirtatious, and now he would probably misconstrue it as dismissive or immature! Merlin's balls, why hadn't she assuaged his worries in the simplest way possible, by just bloody shouting that _she didn't care_?

But it was too late to take it back. The silence that followed her thoughtless comment made her feel incredibly awkward at first – but as she glanced over at Remus, she realized that instead of seeming upset or shattered, he was instead utterly consumed with staring at her, with what she thought – and _hoped_ – was admiration in his eyes. "You really are something else, Tonks," he finally breathed, before letting loose a relieved chuckle that (after a moment of shock) she couldn't help but echo.

Relief coursed through her, and suddenly all was right in the world – or at least, in their own little world, which consisted of nobody else but the two of them, together in the DADA office. They continued to stare at each other, but now the silence was much more comfortable. It was as if there was a tacit understanding that nothing more needed to be said.

However, Tonks was no longer content with just watching; before her mind even knew what her body was doing, her hand was reaching to gently clasp Remus'. But perhaps it would have been best had Tonks' mind been in on the action, for she didn't notice the precariously placed stack of parchment on the edge of the desk. As her arm brushed against them, they quickly fell to the floor.

"Oh, bloody hell, I'm sorry about that!" she apologized, chagrined that her clumsiness had made another appearance. And just when things were going so well, too! She really was ace at ruining significant moments – and they had most definitely been sharing a _moment_!

"It's no problem," he said easily, actually somewhat amused at her escapades. They seemed to lighten the mood, at least. "They're just a few lesson plans, it's nothing too vital."

"No, here, let me help," she insisted, dropping down off the chair and trying to gather up the parchment. As she stacked them back into a pile, her eyes couldn't help but wander over the neat script, and she took in just what he had planned for his classes. "Remus," she began slowly. "There's nothing on here about Pogrebins. Didn't you say you wanted to catch one for your class during our little excursion to Armenia?"

Was it her imagination, or did the man flush a bit? "Ah, well… I suppose that was a rather flimsy pretext to spend a bit more time with you, wasn't it?" he winced, running a hand through his hair in an embarrassed gesture.

She had to laugh, and admitted with a blush, "At least you found a semi-plausible one! My excuse to get you to come with me was a bit pathetic, wasn't it?"

"I'm relieved I wasn't the only one making up silly excuses, at least," he grinned in return, and she had to agree. Acting like a schoolgirl had seemed somewhat pathetic at the time, but if she hadn't been the only one feeling like she'd been transformed back into a teenager, then perhaps it wasn't as mortifying.

Besides, Tonks couldn't help but feel satisfied at the fact that she could reduce the educated, collected professor in front of her back to a schoolboy! It did wonders for her ego, and she couldn't help but tease him. "Well, I'm positively shocked at your actions, Professor Lupin! You lied to an Auror – that's a punishable offence, you know."

"Would you take a bribe, Auror Tonks?" he teased right back, a positively playful gleam in his eyes that made her heart actually skip a beat. "Perhaps a nice dinner?"

"Hmm, perhaps…" she managed to reply coyly, when on the inside she really felt more like shrieking in delight. She certainly wasn't used to feeling like this, so giddy and hopeful – but she _wanted_ to get used to it. And Merlin help her, she had to let Remus know that, right then and there. The coyness dropped from her voice, and in all seriousness, Tonks added, "But I feel I have to warn you right now, just one might not be enough."

The blinding grin on Remus Lupin's face told her he was perfectly amenable to that.

- **To Be Continued…** -

* * *

**Next chapter** – the conclusion, the end, the finale, the epilogue… that's right, the last chapter of _Wanderings with Werewolves_!

Well, Remus' deep, dark secret has been revealed! And of _course_ Tonks wouldn't take off running in the opposite direction – but I'm sure some of you were hoping for that so you could step in and comfort our favourite professor, weren't you? ;) Well, if you still want to hug him, by all means, feel free – but how about a review first?

Toodles,

– ish –


	10. Autographs and Adieus

**Wanderings with Werewolves**

**Chapter 10 – Autographs and Adieus **

Tonks had been in the middle of a rather odd yet lovely dream (involving doing the groceries and purchasing a life-sized chocolate Remus from the candy aisle), when a rasping voice in her ear slowly brought her back to consciousness.

"Tonks… Tonks, luv, it's time to get up."

She only shut her eyes tighter, burrowing deeper into her pillow. "Mmm… Noooo…"

An amused chuckle reached her ears, followed by Remus telling her firmly, yet apologetically, "I'm sorry Tonks, but we should get out of bed."

"Oh, do we _have_ to?" she groaned, finally rolling over and opening her eyes. The sight that greeted her was certainly a pleasant one; the normally put together Professor Lupin was looking adorably dishevelled as he gazed down at her, propped up on an elbow beside her in her bed. Now, how was it fair that he could look so scrumptious after just waking up, when she no doubt looked scarier than a Hungarian Horntail defending her young?

He must not have thought she looked _too_ bad, however, because he shot her an adoring grin before saying, "I'm afraid so, yes. We both have duties to see to."

The disappointment in his tone at those words did wonders for her ego, but sadly still couldn't do much for her usual coherency (or lack thereof) in the mornings. All Tonks could come up with was, "Bah. No fair!"

"Yes, I agree – it's _supremely_ unfair that such trifling things like our jobs have to get in the way of us staying in bed all day," he sighed dramatically.

"It _is_ unfair," she pouted, pulling the blankets up to her chin as if they could protect her from the rest of the world. "I've been spoiled these last few weeks, you know, spending so much time with you. Now that you'll be off at Hogwarts permanently, I'll hardly get to see you." To be perfectly honest, she'd been dreading this day for the past month. She knew Remus was eager to start teaching, and she was extremely happy for him, but the selfish part of her knew that they would have much less time together now.

"I know…" Remus sighed, more seriously this time. The frown that crossed his face made it clear that he didn't like the idea anymore than she did. However, his eyes sparkled mischievously in that way Tonks couldn't get enough of as he then wryly added, "Clearly I shouldn't have spent any time with you whatsoever, since you've gotten altogether too used to me now."

"It's much too early for your teasing," she groused, before asking, "Will you at least let me see you off at Platform 9 3/4?"

"If you'd like," he smiled, pleased at her offer. Then he snickered. "I'm sure that will give all the children a wonderful first impression of their new professor. They'll think me some sort of lothario who managed to somehow seduce a young, gorgeous witch into being his girlfriend."

She tried not to blush at the 'young' and 'gorgeous' comments, but the word 'girlfriend' made her grin like a maniac. She still couldn't quite grasp the fact that she, the decidedly unfeminine and brash Auror Trainee and klutz extraordinaire, was dating the altogether brilliant Remus Lupin. The brilliant Remus Lupin whom she was sure would have many more admirers soon, and she smirked at the thought. "Me being there would work in your favour, you know – all the boys will be impressed, and all the girls will be jealous and try all the harder to get you to notice them."

"Oh really?" He raised a brow, and bit his lip in an attempt to stop a disbelieving chortle from escaping.

"Absolutely," she nodded firmly, no longer playfully joking. "Just you wait and see – you'll be the new favourite teacher in no time."

"I suppose we'll find that out soon enough," Remus mused, albeit doubtfully. "But in order to do so, I hope you realize that we'll have to get out of bed at some point…"

-x-x-x-

They did manage to drag themselves out of Tonks' bed eventually; yet even though that took quite a bit of time, the pair ended up at King's Cross very early, as Tonks had to be at the Ministry well before the Hogwarts Express left the station.

"I don't mind being early," Remus insisted as they carefully made their way through the wall between platforms 9 and 10 (Remus with quite a bit more subtlety than Tonks, who ended up tripping over the threshold). "I think perhaps I'll board the train now, find a compartment, and take a nap."

The Hogwarts Express was already in the station, gleaming splendidly. It was an odd sight to see without the hustle and bustle of students rushing around it, but there wasn't another soul on the platform yet. Tonks was pleased to have a bit of solitude; it meant she could talk candidly and not have to worry about being overheard (of course, knowing her, she probably would have blurted out her words with a crowd around them anyway).

"I'm sorry I wore you out last night – I should have let you get your rest, what with your transformation coming up and all," she apologized, wincing at her thoughtlessness. She had just wanted one last special night with Remus before he left for Hogwarts, but he really did need his sleep before the full moon.

"Please don't apologize. I much preferred how we spent our evening over resting," he said firmly, squeezing her hand in his. Then he shrugged and reassured her, "Besides, now that we know the Wolfsbane works, I really don't feel as anxious about transformations as I used to."

That quelled her worries somewhat. The regimen of Wolfsbane that Snape had started him on when they had first met had worked perfectly; or, so Remus had told her. He had been extremely worried about it, but having one successful transformation under his belt had eased his fears somewhat about transforming in the school. However, Tonks knew better than to think his fears were gone completely, and she called him on it. "Not anxious? You liar," she teased lightly.

"Well, not _as_ anxious," he amended. "There's a difference."

"You don't need to worry, Remus," she told him fervently, squeezing his hand in return. "Everything will be fine."

"Logically, I know I don't really have anything to worry about… But it's just a bit mind-boggling that in twenty-four hours I'll be teaching my first class. I suppose it hasn't really sunk in that I'm going to be an actual _professor_," Remus tried to explain, sounding rather awed.

"You're going to be a _wonderful_ professor," Tonks insisted, stopping and turning to face him. Then she put her hands on his arms and looked up at him with an expression that dared him to disagree with her. "I mean, _anybody_ would be in comparison to Lockhart, but you _especially_, since you're kind, and patient, and bloody brilliant. I'll make you a wager that by the end of this week, the kids will be lined up down the hall for your office hours."

Her words did the trick, and brought an amused grin to his face. "Oh really? And just what will you be wagering?"

"Hmm, I don't know yet." Then she shrugged and suggested, "We can work out the terms later this week – I'll come visit you, and we can meet in Hogsmeade as soon as you're feeling up to it."

"If we work out the terms later this week, then I'll have the advantage of knowing just how the students seem to be responding to me," he pointed out. "You must be very confident in this little bet."

"_Extremely_ confident," she informed him smugly.

Remus rolled his eyes, but smiled down on her genuinely. "Thank you, Tonks. Your faith means a great deal to me."

"Yours means a lot to me too, Remus," she returned, thinking of all the times in recent weeks when he had given her pep talks about her latest cases. "I'm going to miss you…"

He dropped his hands down to her hips and pulled her closer towards him. "I'm going to miss you too. But we'll see each other soon."

"Count on it," she nodded firmly, reaching up to place her hands flat on his chest. "And expect plenty of owls! I'll send you one tonight, and you can tell me all about the trip and the feast."

"I'll be looking forward to it," he said huskily, dropping his head down to hers. "See you soon, Tonks."

Then Remus captured her lips in a sweet kiss, which she of course extended as long as she could. She brought an arm up around his neck and ran her fingers through the hairs on the back of his head, which she knew from experience he rather enjoyed. Now was no exception, and it only prompted him to deepen their kiss, as his warm lips parted and moved more passionately against hers.

It ended much too soon for Tonks' liking, but she did have to breathe, after all. Panting slightly, she managed to rasp out, "See you soon, _Professor_ Lupin."

Before he could step away, Tonks pulled her wand out of her robes, determined to give him a more lasting parting gift. She quickly tapped the corner of the tattered briefcase Remus held in one hand, where _R.J. Lupin_ was inscribed; with her quick charm, the word _Professor_ then appeared in front of his name.

His eyes brightened, but he didn't say anything; instead he let his lips do the talking as he swooped in for another kiss, that put their earlier one to shame.

"Perhaps it's a good thing no students are around to see this send-off," he managed to gasp once they came up for air again. "We wouldn't want to corrupt their innocent sensibilities, would we?"

"Speak for yourself," Tonks snickered, before capturing his mouth once again for a final kiss. However, it wasn't until ten minutes later that the pair was finally able to tear themselves away from each other.

-x-x-x-

It was only a few hours after their parting (Tonks refused to call it their goodbye, since they had purposely avoided saying that word), and she missed Remus terribly already. Which, she thought, was a bit ridiculous; after all, she had gone much longer than that without him while she worked and he prepared for his classes. Maybe it was the actual act of seeing him off that had planted that bit of neuroticism in her brain?

Well, whatever it was, it was driving her mad. She wondered if Remus would be feeling the same way about her? She just wanted to gaze into his warm eyes, or stare at that boyish grin of his... It suddenly crossed her mind that they should have exchanged pictures of each other or something, to have some sort of memento to place on their respective desks. Why hadn't she thought of that before? She supposed she could owl a picture of herself to him now – but then she had a better idea.

Luckily, her lunch break was just beginning, giving her enough time to run to Flourish and Blott's and pick up what she needed. Then she quickly made her way to St. Mungo's, and once again found herself in the Janus Thickey ward.

As she moved through the doors, Miriam Strout came over and looked at her in surprise. "Auror Tonks? What are you doing back here? There isn't a problem with poor Gilderoy, is there?"

"Oh no, no problem at all," she reassured the woman. "I was just wondering if I could see him for a few moments? I wanted to ask him for a bit of a favour, actually."

"Of course," Healer Strout said, somewhat confused, but she put a smile on her face as she led Tonks over to her patient's bed. "This way, dear."

Lockhart was sitting on the edge of his bed with a battered peacock quill in his hand, completely engrossed in whatever he was doing. Tonks managed to peer down at the parchment he was writing on; it was covered in his own name, over and over again.

"Look! I've got this writing thing down pat, haven't I?" he crowed when he finally noticed the two women standing over him. "I think it'd look much better in joined-up letters though…"

"That's lovely, Gilderoy," Healer Strout smiled gently, before gesturing over to Tonks. "Do you remember Auror Tonks? She was here a few weeks ago to talk to you."

He eyed her carefully, but then shook his head. "Sorry, that doesn't ring a bell. I think I'd remember a name like... Tonks, was it? A bit silly sounding, isn't it?" He quickly brightened, however, and asked, "Are you here for an autograph? I can write my name now!"

Tonks couldn't help but grin, and she quickly cut off the other woman before she could mention anything about Auror investigations; there really was no need to bother him with all that now. "Yes, that's exactly why I'm here." She pulled two copies of _Wandering with Werewolves_ out of her bag and handed them to him. "Would you mind signing these for me?"

"Absolutely!" he cried eagerly, opening the front covers and very meticulously starting to print his name. "But why am I signing a book?"

"Well, they're _your_ books," she told him.

"Oh! Yes, that's right, I was a writer, wasn't I?" he mused, while carefully moving on to his last name. "So these are mine, then? Nice and thick, aren't they? That must mean they're good."

Tonks didn't quite know what to say to that, so she merely kept quiet and let Lockhart concentrate on his task. He was done a few minutes later, and he beamed as he handed the books back to her. "There you are! A work of art, really."

"Thank you very much," she told him genuinely. "This means a lot to me."

"A big fan, are you?" he wondered, preening a bit; although the effect might have been more striking had he been in one of his fancy dress robes, rather than in a pair of St. Mungo's pyjamas and slippers.

"Something like that," Tonks acknowledged awkwardly, but couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. She had to admit, she was feeling much more generous towards Lockhart than she had been back in the midst of her investigation; now that everything was wrapped up and the victims had been helped, she found she had a little more sympathy to direct towards him. And of course, the biggest influence in her new attitude was that because of him, she had met Remus – and how could she resent the person who, albeit inadvertently, had brought them together?

She liked the idea of the books acting as a reminder of his role, and she thought Remus would too. However, simply autographing his books didn't seem to be enough for Gilderoy. "Can I sign something else?" he asked keenly.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything else. And I must get going," she deferred, but stuck out a hand to shake his. "Thank you very much for your time, Mr. Lockhart – I really appreciate it."

"My pleasure!" he exclaimed, but to Tonks' surprise, he didn't shake her hand. Instead, he quickly scribbled his initials onto the back of it. "There! And you said you didn't have anything else to sign…"

"Ah… Right," she uttered, with a baffled glance at Healer Strout.

The older woman just smiled indulgently, before turning and leading Tonks back through the ward. "That was a very nice thing you did, dear," she commended her.

"I guess I sort of felt I owed him," Tonks admitted, somewhat awkwardly. "He might not know it, but it turns out he did a nice thing for me too." And with that she bid Healer Strout goodbye, leaving the older woman with a rather mystified expression on her face.

-x-x-x-

That evening when he entered his office, an owl was perched on Remus' chair. He quickly walked over, having been expecting a letter from Tonks, but was surprised to find a rectangular package dropped on his desk instead. He opened it eagerly (the pink polka dotted wrapping paper was a nice touch, he thought), and found a small note resting on a copy of _Wanderings with Werewolves_. He couldn't stop his brow from rising sceptically at the sight of that particular book, but his expression quickly changed as he read her words.

_Wotcher, Remus!_

_Hope you had a good trip, and a good feast – was the food as delicious as I remember? Maybe I should look into hiring a house elf, I'm surprised I didn't scare you away (or accidentally poison you) with my pathetic attempts at cooking._

_Anyway, I've enclosed a little gift for you! I know it's not exactly a literary masterpiece, and it probably shouldn't be gracing the bookshelves of any self-respecting professor, but it helped throw us together, so I can't deny that I've got somewhat of a soft spot for it now. I hope you'll be able to look at it and think of me, just like I look at my copy and think of you. It will just have to do until I see you again, because I miss you already!_

_Love, Tonks_

_P.S. – I'm in no way saying you have to read it, of course! That'd be just cruel of me, wouldn't it?_

Well, she was right; Lockhart's works probably didn't belong in the same room as the rest of his texts, let alone on the same bookshelf. However, he felt he could make an exception for that particular copy – and so he placed it front and centre on his desk, and smiled.

- **The End **-

* * *

Well, there you have it, folks! Everything is wrapped up in a nice, fluffy package. Ahh, I just love a happy ending, and I hope you do too.

I'm sort of sad this story is over, but at the same time I feel very satisfied that I managed to complete it. It took me forever to finally get around to writing it, but once the words managed to come out, I was quite pleased. It was a lot of fun to write, and I hope it was just as much fun for you all to read! And of course, one way to let me know it was fun for you to read would be to leave me a review – please, drop me a line and let me know how you liked it! Your comments always make my day.

Anyhoo, yes. Thanks to all those who have been reading this from the start, and thanks to those who will stumble upon it and read it all the way through in one sitting. Thanks to all those who previously reviewed, and thanks in advance to those who will leave a few words now! Until next time… whenever that may be (sadly, don't hold your breath!). ;)

Toodles,

– ish –


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